this is the sequel poem to the previous poem about the building of the housing estate here where I live
Nature Returns
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Make your Mark
St Mark?
Make a name for your self
Write a poem
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We flew a kite but he was
clouded by Veronica
Amassing CDs as I tuned
on my Harmonica
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In the days when I was scared of witches
Cracks in pavements, trolls who lived in ditches
There was I with plaits like anchor ropes
Rainbowed days through small kaleidoscopes
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The curves of Wales gave birth to view
By train of green and lined with blue
Feet from water, inches from sand and otherside
the shepherd's land.
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The Pea Pickers 1971 UK
Ramshackle vaguely khaki covered truck
Screeched to a halt
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Pretty Handsome
Forget about pretty now
it's about being kind
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Cousin Lily comes to stay
She fairly takes my breath away
Escaping from her earthy flat
All got up in her ivory hat
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Peaceful living like a clock..I think I'd like the ticking
Tick for things which are so right and wholesome as a chicken
Sunday roast and buttered toast and picking out the weeds
Chats about the runner beans and keeping to the deeds
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The Beach in Sidmouth
It is always beside me reflecting my dreams
Ever a sighing or shouting its themes
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