Timothy Sesemann


When I retire, I shall cultivate codgers’ whiskers
With sea-salty eyebrows, flyaway style,
And potter by a towpath with bacon buns and mugs of tea.

I’ll know everyone by sight and quite a few by name,
And spend the daylight hours tinkering with weed hatches and gas mantles
On a narrowboat named ‘Rosie’.

And somewhere south of Tardebigge, or Bingley Five Rise, say,

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