hinges creaky

lock long rusty

paint a-peeling and vaguely musty

swinging days gone

these days shut fast

seems years since I last had a blast

footsteps on stairs,

sapling lingers

turns my knob with leafy fingers

I stay rigid

want her naughty

instead, sprays my key-hole with WD-40

sap linament

for ancient joints

soothing salve an oaken so...

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Horizons and herring made us Vikings

No estuary beyond our sixteen oars and shallow-drafts.

Silver arm-rings we wore, bound by allegiance,

Chained thralls shared our graves

Ninety miles a day in a fair wind

Sea-sick abaft oak prows and reeling sails.

Monks in towers prayed for stormy seas but

Stiff with salt it was nuns not gold we wanted

After conquest we traded ...

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