The children howl, the house is hell
you close your eyes to cast that spell

Rising high above the endless squabbles 
to meet me down upon those sodden cobbles

The rain and fog are gently taunting
your white shirt billows, opaque and haunting

On Henrietta Street…

Two hundred stairs, do I descend
with full-beam smile to my treasured friend

These precious moments, we get to steal
...

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An Arctic air
pushes past the cracking door
as we step out
into the newly forming night
with many friendly cheers 
chasing us from the hall
The searing wind
grabs you by the ears
seconds abroad
and your bones will know the chill
in the chalk-white light
of this moon

Snow falls slowly
first on the cliffs above the lane
then these cobbles are scribbled out
under a virgin whiteness
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I work hard most days
hands all rough by six
ah, but it’s worth every callous
whatever’s needed
and when I’m done, I walk
right down the sea-front promenade
sip on a cup of something
so warm and so sweet
with those boats sailing in and out
in the lazy light of the evening

There forms a shape in the foam on my coffee
I see the outline of your nose and eyes
looking up at me
I wonder j...

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