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Orange White and Blue
Odessa Young was standing on the beach She was speaking to her future husband on a mobile phone I am standing at the water’s edge Paul and I are considering a swim In the distance a white yacht with orange sails Was making good progress due to an agreeable wind The yacht was captained by Odessa’s future […]
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Blue Water in a Skating Park
Whenever I am in Scarborough I always think of time passing I stay at the Grand Hotel on the sixth floor facing the sea It is a hotel that knows time above all other things The four towers indicate the seasons of the year There are fifty two chimneys counting the passing weeks And there used […]
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Kiss Germany
I long to kiss Germany To bury myself under her raven fringe I want her ruby lipstick to remain on my white cheeks So that I may study my love reflection as I travel home
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The Captains Garden
Breathing Breathing Breathing This wild garden is breathing once more I visited it on the last day of summer And was given a Japanese Willow Tree
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The Captains Garden
I will be visiting the Captains Garden tomorrow He is currently at sea I must say that I am tempted to steal some of his blooms My sister however has written to him To explain his future loss
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Plastic Love
I hate you so much This is rarely heard in my house As I live alone And have given up acknowledging my reflection Indeed I have removed all the mirrors I own So that I may love myself unconditionally Without further argument
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Bus Stop
One Fifteen years ago I ran for a bus at the central railway station I caught the bus and struck up a conversation with a girl called Lola She is now my wife Two Fifteen years ago I ran for a bus at the central railway station But the driver did not wait […]
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Return to Wateringbury
The heat of the passing years has not faded You have not changed I Adore You
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Return to Wateringbury
I am planning to return tomorrow After many years absent To sit on the railway station In the deep afternoon heat Is all that I require of life at present 10th August 2020
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Cricket Pavillion
You are sitting of the steps of a cricket pavilion Your pale blue shirt is partially open at the front It hangs lazily from your tanned shoulders There is no breeze I silently study your stillness From my position of retirement