Pete Crowther Poems

Do you remember how the songthrush sang,
Those lovely liquid notes that spilled
Forth from his throat like a mountain stream
So fresh and clean and how they gushed
...

Heaven is here and now —
drowsing in the sun
on a Sunday afternoon
in early June, a distant hum
...

As far as I can see, the surface of the sea
Is all a-glitter where
Bright sunlight sparkles on each ripple
Making stars enough to fill
...

Do not ever, ever, ever
ask an Englishman about the weather.
Believe you me, it’s a big mistake
that you should never ever make.
...

Every day
Something new I learn.
Today it is
That fresh
...

My mam and dad
made fun of death
like you do
when you don’t believe
...

Do you remember when you used to smoke
those times, usually late at night
when the shops had all shut
and you suddenly found
...

Lao Tsu,
so wise,
believed
all things
...

The oldest person he’d ever tattooed, he said
Was a widowed old lady of eighty-six, no less,
Who ever since she was a girl had longed
To have her very own tattoo, but first
...

Just me and the dog
On the rug in front of the fire
And the wind that blows
In gusts against the window pane
...