whitby (Remove filter)
On Henrietta Street
The children howl, the house is hell
you close your eyes to cast that spell
Rising high above the endless squabblesÂ
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
...
Wednesday 6th December 2023 10:50 am

Recent Comments
John Coopey on TALES FROM THE COALFACE 2
2 hours ago
Tom Doolan on You Only Live Once
5 hours ago
Tom Doolan on Cake And Eat It 🍰
5 hours ago
Paul Buchheit on February 5: Weatherperson’s Day
7 hours ago
Graham Sherwood on Anatomy of a Girl
8 hours ago
Graham Sherwood on You Only Live Once
8 hours ago
Graham Sherwood on Cake And Eat It 🍰
8 hours ago
Bill Dodsworth on February 5: Weatherperson’s Day
17 hours ago
John Coopey on WHEN YOU WERE SWEET SIXTEEN
1 day ago
Clare on
1 day ago