In farmers' fields the lovers go,
Sneak, hand in hand, where crops do grow,
Take off their clothes; together lie,
To kiss and touch beneath the sky,
The weather's wet, and skies are grey,
I wish I could just stay in bed,
But I must go to work today,
There once was a gold digging rat,
Who married for money, so that,
Most revellers have long since fled,
And I, alone, am out of bed,
Walking the streets so still and dead,
The night belongs to cats.
I currently teach religious education at a secondary school here in the UK.
Before training as a teacher I was a Franciscan Friar with SSF, worked in a high security mental hospital, was a verger at Liverpool Cathedral, ran a conference and training centre for the Diocese of Exeter, and was an on-line book dealer.
I have recently got into writing poetry and find it quite addictive. I enjoy the discipline of working to a particular form and love trying new forms.