Poetry Blog by Martin Elder

There were winters past

When we walked across

Paths and tracks with mac’s

And coats that floated in harsh torn winters gale

Upon fields of white stalked green

Steady crisp crunching footsteps

Marked our trail

On crushed even grass

Trying to avoid the rutted tractor tyre puddles

Of snarking bracken waters splash

Laughing over bootfulls of over eager tread

Of h...

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It’s another hotshot night in the Steaming town

Of screaming wailing sirens

Crowned with singing and dancing

Pumping thumping music coloured lights

Among the daily dilly dally splashing of flower laden heights

bathing in the fountain

washed in freezing frothy folly filled pints

And shots with shouts

Of she’s just another

Among the glut of burning talent

Who strut the ...

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