5 Spanish Sun Poem by Bill Smith

Aldis lamp messages shimmer across breeze blown ripples
Early morning haze fuzzes distant hill top dreams
Home lies a sky away
Palm tree shadows crook beckoning fingers
Come, come they say
Come follow
Close by the grind of mans labour harbours the reality of home
Horizon bound a hill top tower swallows a shaft of prayers
Dog’s bark a do not enter behind Colditz fences
Washed window pools evaporate in the mid-day heat
mercury edged bubbles of thought silent on warm tarmac beds
A cooling breeze runs a thousand Chinese whispers through
wellington booted reeds
The sun relentless moves across a gathering powder puff sky,
its shadows fading
Locking me back behind a wordless barricade