Poetry Blog by Peter Taylor

Lincoln Bill crowned you Queen of all around you,

insisting that he who played King for a day would

kill for a second: the honour so high and

rich with all your bounty –

no mere paper gain, it came laden with the

trappings of a full-hearted love, say it

twice, three times, whatever helps to emphasise.

Now, about that love, I knew from the start –

no need even to r...

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INTO THEIR HANDS

There are walks and there are walks;

the big difference is that on some we talk

but not on others. On some (like those with

brother Jon, well content resident expat of

what was once the exotic, despotic and

generally chaotic empire that sat uncomfortably

astride East and West), the rarity of their occurrence

demands that we speak – so we chit the chat and

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