This Sunday afternoon I meant
To write a poem but fell asleep.
I woke alone in the summer house
To hear the raindrops pattering
...
Wild roses bloom in May
When trees are freshly green
And everything is bright and clean
In a new-made world’s first day.
...
In the supermarket car park
I parked my Kawasaki
400 ZRX, new and gleaming,
locked it took the key
...
Have you ever thought how it would feel
To be a cow, or horse say, munching grass
In some wet field with flies all round your eyes,
No hands to shoo them off, or worse,
...
That morning by the empty beach
Just you and me, the sea,
The sighing waves that break
Upon the sand, the sun, the sky,
...
From dawn this misty
morning we have heard
the doleful calling of the distant
foghorn warning all the sailors
...
“How are you keeping then? ”, she wrote,
“still going on O.K.? Me,
I’m at college now, doing English lit.
This term it’s Philip Larkin —
...
It doesn’t matter now
But then it did.
When I was young
I would have loved
...
I know a secret place where time stands still,
It lies beyond a five-barred gate, enclosed
By hawthorn hedges heaped up high with drifting snow
In maytime when the barn owl glides, pale ghost,
...
Persephone’s on holiday from Hell,
Released a while from Pluto’s iron spell.
It’s springtime and the air is warm and sweet,
The lovely girl walks smiling down the street.
...