Poetry Blogs (1960's)
Ghazala lari on Add to cart. (2 hours ago)
There’s a place where I can go and tell my secrets to… (Brian Wilson)
In a room,
a child not yet a teen,
sits full of good vibrations.
The vinyl stolen from parents
crackles with life,
static and promises of a long summer for all.
Surfboards, so alien to this coast of estuary and mudflats,
yet the glow of California dreams and girls perforates his reality.
Sunday 18th October 2020 8:48 pm
We crossed the Chantry Bridge
As the Calder boiled beneath
And a drifting, chilling mist
Hung heavy on the heath
We came from far and wide
Marching all together
To gather at Belle Vue
Despite the dank, inclement weather
There were grandfathers and fathers
There were mothers, daughters, sons
Hand in hand in heavy coats
As the frost caressed ...
Tuesday 28th January 2020 4:43 pm