Sunday, 25 June 2017

The sermon ...

The lay preacher praised the prophet Jeremiah - 

I sat next to my mum and dad - 

Anne had driven us here, past the bus station and Wicks - 

The church was full - 

Canon Tom's Kawasaki was parked outside - 

The sermon came to an end - 

My dad spoke to my mum - 

He might as well have been speaking to himself he said - 

Sunday 25 June 2017

St Faiths

Saturday, 24 June 2017

The saxophone ...

Hearing Rob talk about his saxophone, I felt the magic of jazz - 

I imagined myself wearing dark glasses in a shebeen - 

Perhaps I, too, played the saxophone, a tenor saxophone - 

I'd put on a dazzling shirt - 

I'd close my eyes whilst I was playing - 

The golden instrument would fill the room with longing - 

Saturday 24 June 2017


Friday, 23 June 2017

Silent Hammoon ...

Penelope and I gazed at the two bell ropes -

Above us the bells slept with long lived spiders - 

Swallows circled the wooden bellcote - 

Invisible choristers sat in the choir stalls - 

I imagined the nameless craftsmen carving the dark wood, shaping each grape with a knowing blade - 

The flagstones beneath our feet touched the gentle earth - 

Box pews faced the altar - 

Stained glass windows depicted kings and prophets - 

Outside, a yew tree cast silence upon the  grass - 

Friday 23 June 2017

St Paul's Church 

Thursday, 22 June 2017

Wearing a gaudy shirt ...

Once I wore a gaudy shirt - 

Annick wore a dress made of summer - 

I'd climb the hill above the drowsy fields - 

I'd follow the waxing moon across the sky - 

I'd sit cross legged with my Scheherazade - 

I'd hear her tales through the fragrant night -  

She'd blow her smoke into my mouth -

The river would reflect the listening stars - 

Wednesday 22 2017

Salisbury Plain

Wednesday, 21 June 2017

Southsea Deckchairs ...

As we sipped Americanos the tide was falling - 

Boats were left stranded in the warm shallows -

Their keels marked the ribbed sand - 

Long legged girls strode through the knee high waves - 

Dogs explored the mysteries of seaweed - 

Pebbles shone like clumsy gems - 

We lolled in the Southsea Deckchairs

Our swimming costumes dried quickly in the sun - 

My skin tasted of salt -

We sat amongst the visitors - 

That man's spent an hour reading The Sun Anne said wonderingly - 

It should take five minutes I said -

Wednesday 21 June 2017

South Beach
Studland Dorset

Tuesday, 20 June 2017

Clerici's quiet melancholy ...

I woke up with a summer cold

I'm sitting now, watching Anne cut the rosemary - 

I can smell the fragrance of the severed stems - 

The sky is a pale burning blue - 

These last few days have been like living in a Sci Fi movie - 

I had an extra's part in the scene which was set in the parched city - 

Now sitting in the garden, I remember the stifling air inside the tube train, the scorched skins of parked cars - 

I'd watched a cat steal across a fire escape, its shadow as black as its fur - 

I was sitting on a roof terrace - 

I put down the novel by Alberto Moravia - 

I understood only too well Clerici's quiet melancholy

Tuesday 20 June 2017

The Old School House
East Stoke 

Monday, 19 June 2017

Wearing the Ibiza hat ...

Paul gave me his Ibiza hat

I wore it when I walked down Wanstead High Street -

I thought, wearing this hat, I must look like a Londoner - 

I could be on my way to the bowls or the darts - 

I could have mates in Loughton - 

I admired the reflection of my hat in the window of The Ginger Pig

Behind the glass were opulent hams - 

Anne asked after strange potions in the health food shop - 

Goldfish swam in an antique tank - 

A man in a white linen suit passed us on the pavement - 

Happy Monday he said - 

Monday 19 June 2017

Wanstead High Street