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.

Do i...

Read and leave comments (5)

Dreadnought

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 ...

Read and leave comments (2)