An old house in a cobbled street
A back-to-back house
Like those in Coronation Street
My granny came to visit us
After maybe two or three weeks
Her face to one side
She gave me some meaningful looks
That I should follow her outside
In our house's small back yard
She took me a-side
She struggled to adjust her face
What was it she found very hard
To say face to face
After a while her decision made
Words rush out as if in a race
Everything here is dull grey
The houses are grey
The streets are grey
There are no trees
There are no flowers
Everything is grey
Except the soil which is black!
I love my son
And you my grandson
But I cannot bear this dark gloom
Where I feel I'll meet my doom
I want to go back to my home
To my precious one-bedroom house
With its low walls of white-washed white
Making it light and O so bright
My bijoux happy little house
Room for a bed and little else
A bottle of ouzo and Coke
It's enough -
Unfinished
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem