The pits…
On a visit to my local garage
Where tea and topless girls
Have largely been replaced
By Lattes
And The Daily Telegraph
I can’t help feeling nostalgia
For the smell of spent motor oil
Or the shrill of an electric wrench…
An old leaf
People
Like trees
Have their roots
And returning to this park
Always
Uncovers mine.
Autumn’s
The season…
Drone Zone
Never shot anything
with an Unmanned Aerial Vehicle
Never shot at one
Either…
Fruit Ninja
The Watermelon man
Of Ca l ador
Delivers fruit
and Accopello
With equal zest…
A Place in the Sun…
Long before
Any visible signs
Of human activity
They appear
Draped like flags
Across a lunar, lounger, landscape…
Selfie
I’m not very accomplished
At the ubiquitous Selfie
Not even sure I’d flipped
Before the iPhone 7…
Scrapyard Challange
When we were little
A ‘day out with the kids’
Occasionally involved
A trip to the ‘Breakers’
Scaling the towers
Of loosely stacked cars…
Horses for Courses
Every Sunday morning
My Grandpa Horace
Would lead his pony and trap
To the White Hart, Kingston…
Kids
Bringing up kids
Is harder than I thought
Early mornings
Late nights
And all the other stuff
In-between…
A♭
When I was little
We lived in a flat…
Life in the daft lane…
Traffic jams in the country
Are rubbish.
Give me the M25 any day…
Up in smoke
I never gave up on smoking
Smoking gave up on me…
BN7 Licensed to Chill…
I’m living a double life
Not an exciting
Secret agent type double life.
But a rather boring
Commuter based one…