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Manchester Morning

Manchester Morning

And in the distance

A watery sun

Climbs ponderously

Above the Pennines.

 

Manchester Morning

Railway stations buzz

As iPods arrive

Accompanied by

Their sleeping owners.

 

Manchester Morning

Shops slowly open

With early temptings

Of frothy coffee

And warming bagels.

 

Manchester Morning

Trams clank che...

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Kicking the leaves

Crisp and crunchy underfoot

Like golden snowflakes,

Early autumn leaves

Cover the pavements

And pathways.

 

Deep and golden,

Covering the grass,

Covering the paths,

Sleeping memories

Of summer.

 

Soft, neat piles

Of autumnal casualties

Lie gently in corners.

 

And then along comes a four year old

And kicks them all over the pla...

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Empty Windows

 

Half empty people

In a half empty town

Half way through the week.

 

Pointless meanderings

Around a dying town centre

Wasting time between dole visits.

 

Soulless eyes,

Like empty windows,

Peer into closed shops.

 

The shops are empty

But the pubs, like the job centre,

Are full.

 

Grey buildings

On a summer’s day

In a dying town.

 

Only the flower baskets saved the day

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City Canal

Half sunken bottles

Mix uneasily

With the first dying leaves of autumn

On the oily surface.

 

Canada geese

Swim gingerly

Around plastic bags menacing

The dark water.

 

Narrow boats

Slip gently

Into city centre moorings,

Not stopping for long.

 

Fish die.

 

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Lares et panates

 

Warm wife and cold wine

Both waiting for me at home.

Lares et panates.

 

Grandchildren call round

On a summer’s afternoon.

Noisy wee buggers.

 

Sitting quietly

Contemplating city life.

Home in a high rise.

 

City behind me

Cooling glass of dry white wine

Warm summer sunset.

 

Village cricket ground

Grandson opening the bat.

Pennine happiness.

 

Cat taps on window

I’m cold a...

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Deep Pocket Parliamentary Shanty (A song for modern day pirates)

Away, haul away

We’ll haul to line our pockets

Away haul away

It’s what MPs do.

 

We vote for or own payrise

We’ll haul to line our pockets

At ten percent ago

It’s what MPs do.

 

With gold plated pensions

We’ll haul to line our pockets

On the backs of the voters

It’s what MPs do.

 

Away, haul away

We’ll haul to line our pockets

Away haul away

It’s what MPs do.

 

We’re arrogant ...

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