Sandra and I share a studio Opposite the new tram stop This is very handy Aswe boyh woij in town Thw name of our stio Is Non Naturiste On Pink Line One

Sandra and I were searching for rare butterflies The hot weather had encouraged flocks To descend of the abandoned print works Both Sandra and I enjoy photography And share a love of painted oil drums We found such a drum near the sidings And filled it with spring water filtered blue

About twenty years ago There was a building boom Many villas went up In a matter of months And then the earthquake struck The new money ran out And the island was lost Only the bleached bones now remain Which at the time of our visit Were being saturated by nature Sandra had agreed to […]

The only sound that I could hear Was the sleeping moon As it hung above the sea

The party was swinging But I only determined a hum So faint as to fade in seconds

As we travel south we often stay In bold chateaus of many colours My lovely wife adores loose cotton dresses And matches each dress to each chateau

My cuts and bruises are slowly healing But I cannot disguise them As we have returned to Montalivet For our annual holiday in France I saw Yvonne and Edwina Sax Using the outdoor showers Along with the chap from the train I wish I could have joined them

I never plan photographs My talent is not great I just feel photographs

You sat opposite Yvonne And parallel to Edwina Sax Small talk was exchanged As our train travelled south My girlfriends are camping together As they enjoy being under canvas I would have happily joined them But I had fallen from a bicycle

Marianne climbed slowly Up the bleached rocks After a morning swim She had remembered The two limes and three lemons That she had earlier sliced And left in an iced water bowl