Phil Soar Poems

He wore a hat most every day
To keep the flies and gnats at bay
He didn’t wash himself you see
And lived his life beside a tree
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I saw you through a misty haze
Perhaps that's why I said it
That I thought you were beautiful
You have to give me credit
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I stole a look through drawn blinds
Watched across the street
As people came and left that place
Where death and happiness meet
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If I could drift along like others do
Disenchanted by the world around me
Looking like I haven’t got a clue
And baffled by the actions that astound me
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The swings and roundabouts of life are like a game to me
Played at speed, and sometimes much repeated
I hesitate to say that I enjoy it
But still I know I will not be defeated
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He washed his hands of everything and sailed away to sea
Upon a yacht his father bought in Nineteen sixty three
No crew to help him navigate, a yachtsman on his own
No compass and no route to plan, so far away from home
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Tossed aside like something from a novel
She left the place where love once ruled it all
And turned her back on her disfranchised hovel
Broken and bewildered she would fall
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The reminder on the notepad was a poignant metaphor
Childlike words account for all my innocence and more
I’d written down such nonsense, just to make a reader smile
And cheer them up a little, whilst I walked a country mile
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