Unowhatimeanharry came in at 6 to 1 ...

Last night, before we lit the fire, Richard workshopped a poem -

I listened to Richard reading the hard won words  -  

His poem evoked the wonders he'd sensed as an infant, lying in his pram - 

The front garden was a shimmering paradise - the sky was the window of a tender heaven - 

The voices of those he loved were the voices of angels - 

Later, we spoke of horses - 

Richard told me about horses being switched off - 

Unowhatimeanharry came in at 6 to 1 - 

It was time for a glass of Spitfire - 

19.30

Saturday 14 November 2015

The Old School House 

East Stoke

Dorset