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Front man

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Like a chess board on ice
Ska
Black  and white all around me
To support the striking saris in Willesden
The men of the north, the underground coal men,
Came down to London Town
Stopped to hear the sound of
Ska
Spreading far and wide, away from Harlesden,
And Brixton, and into our souls
Ska
Spread so far.
Even into the graveyard by Rostherne church
Where Chris & I chat and eat our butties.
Now I know that quiet meeting
Will never happen again 
In earth's long diurnal history
Ska.

 

 

 

 

 

 

◄ Sonnet

Collateral damage ►

Comments

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John Marks

Tue 20th Dec 2022 14:38

Thank you Rose, Doug, Leon, Clare Patricia and Stefan. It was the music of my youth, in London.

<Deleted User> (34737)

Tue 20th Dec 2022 09:45

great poem John and such a great loss and only sixty three years old. Tragic! keep on writing your worthwhile poems mate

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