She could dress in bin liners and still look great But her wardrobe is quite empty Which puzzles me As if she is fucking chic There must be an attraction somewhere

Have you noticed that a number of people Don wet suit jackets When swimming in the sea Even in the summer Because the water is so cold The water was cold when I was a kid But I just swam in my cossie like everybody else But that does not answer the main question which…

The only shop in t o w n Sold tall tender tiny t h i n g s Orange purple yellow and g r e e n They did this w i t h An unconditional l o v e That was much i m i t a t e d Bu never s u…

I often walk at night as I cannot sleep easily The streets of my home town reveal secrets Hidden from me during the daylight hours These night walks are rather precious As I am given time to think clearly Without distractions or other dramas I often watch the cargo ships leave the port Under the…

Have you ever thought about sleeping on a beach I do this quite often and wake up suitably refreshed But it is the dreams that are the problem As they vary so differently from reality Only today I slept next to a St Andrews Cross And dreamt a dream so perfect that I immediately forgot…

Charles and Crawford Are rowing a boat On a sea Blue black and white They know that they will never return As the beach is now out of sight     A Sea Rhyme from Kent  

It is silent Utterly silent A heat mist Sits over the sea A lone gull passes overhead The trees remain still     04:15 18/06/22

Poppy Pagoda Mixed My Soda Was a small van that sold nothing But cold soft drinks of all descriptions I worked there one summer many years ago And brushed up on my Shakespeare studies When business was quiet or very slow The van was parked opposite a small rockery Which was part of a long…

Level timit Level timit Level timit Was the captain of a green ship on a marble sea He was immensely proud of his ageing ship And took pride in its immaculate appearance   John’s Pastoral Poetry I was sitting on top of a derelict sea castle Reading a book of John’s pastoral poetry Behind me…

HappyBloomsDayEveryone 16thJune190416thJune2022 IwasaFloweofthemountainyeswhenIputtheroseinmyhairliketheAndalusiangirlsusedorsmallIwearredyesandhowhe kissedmeundertheMoorishWallandIthoughtwellaswellhimasanotherandthenIaskedhimwithmyeyestoaskagainyesand thenhaskedmewouldIyestosayyesmymountainflowerandfirstIputmyarmsaroundhimyesanddrewhimdowntomesohe couldfeelmybreastsallperfumeyesandhisheartwasgoinglikemadandyesIsaidyesIwillyes FuckYouMolly FuckYouLeo