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Hungerford at Dawn (Mid-February)
The eastern sky is quite bright With small torn clouds Floating aimlessly within its display Hungerford is still shrouded in darkness Only the face of the town’s clock Provides any illumination The cold season is far from spent Bitter winds are expected But one can feel the mysteries Of warmer days Hanging in the rigid […]
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The Telephone Box in the Strand
The red telephone box in the Strand Is full of journals and books All but the deepest publications Have views to France Unless the cloud is low I am a dictionary
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The Blue Primate
Judy was sitting in a stream I was standing next to our tent It was a warm spring day Judy was naked and was sitting in a stream Do you realise that primates Can scratch their backs But I cannot even wash mine That is because we have no soap I am standing […]
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Lonely in Southwark
On the serious streets of Southwark I saw you wander by You did not notice me in Costa’s Nor did you wonder why Outlaw
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The Anchor as Bucharest
It was a nightmare created by a mind of fatigue I was in a hotel with you Today was our last day in a pleasant town The sea had been kind to us It had shown us a reality And how to really live We were greedy for more But here we were trapped […]
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Haiku
an orange sun glows over the thin black forest the snow lies untouched 08/01/22
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Do Not Touch Me
Do not touch me Why That is my name It is a strange name Perhaps What is your name my friend I have a poor sense of timing Why is that Because I was late for a wild swim And my dearest friend drowned Would you like me to be your friend That would be […]
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Drinking Reading Sleeping Singing
I own a pub It is called The Stuffed Owl And has quite delightful views This makes it very popular During the longer warmer months In view of this I close the pub During January and February Just to recharge my batteries Today has been a day of wet snow Harsh squally winds and not […]
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The Stuffed Owl
Tuppence and I Live next to a pub The Stuffed Owl Is its unusual name Sometimes after a night out We sleep in to twelve But are careful When opening the drapes As our bedroom Overlooks the beer garden
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L’Amour l’après-midi
On certain afternoons in the summer Jeanne and I rest on our centre bed We are often naked or lightly clothed And either masturbate or fuck Depending on our mood There is a painting of Cornelius Whur On the wall that overlooks our pleasure I wonder what he makes of our immorality He knows that […]