In the April wind, white cherry blossom;

with a smileand bitter memoriesand pridebut which those others had no chanceto find within themselveswhich would think the othermore fortunate?

just over the hillplanning permits would be hard to getand the rolling landscape, and our own prized view,would stay that way.Clearing the ditch beyond the orchard,by the line of old trees,I found it.A musket.still loaded (I realised later, cleaning it up)and a scrap of disintegrating coloured clothstill with a button on it.A button.It was the…

and from some witty pens and minds, its fireworks fizz;so, after all these centuries of rhymeand all the games of meter, dancing words,should we now mourn its passing?Have we lost the music of another world?Instead, the easy unpretentious discourse,sober, light, familiar, honest –the world of daily, homely, shared sharp life,that’s now preferred. Not prose;much more…

must have a passport, with photo…(our local brewerystill used them for local deliveries –accountants proved them cheaper;and of course, great publicity)How many horsescan you get in onephoto-booth?And they’ll need quite a few moreshit-hotpassport inspectorsso watch that arab stallionstrolling so casuallyonto the cross-Channel ferry –might he….?

shudders towards its equinoxwith gales and rain and blown-off leaves,all the elements stirred up, andbringing strange emotions;everything is between;but for children living by the sea,days of joy and awe –the sea, no longer bluebut savage brown-red, even emerald green,which all the yearhas bashed and nibbled at the cliffslike kitchen-boy at pantried half-cut cake,throws all its…