After
a glass my dad would recite the poems he loved -
He'd learned them by heart as a boy, or later as an eager chippy -
I'll keep his copy of the Rubaiyat close to my shameless heart -
The bird of time he'd say -
Lo! - the Bird is on the wing -
His eyes shine with dawn's new light -
He'd look across the carpet as though across the courtyard of a caravanserai -
19.00
Friday 26 January 2018
The Old School House
East Stoke
Dorset
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