Donations are essential to keep Write Out Loud going    

My Perfect View


That was once our view.

It was my perfect view;

Out of the blue, a tree grew.

From then, there was no perfect view.


After that, our lives closed in,

And you, with your arrogance,

Your new-found taste for sin,

Plus your innate flair for spin,

Emphasised the symbolic side

And, harking back to sweet evenings

When we listened for the early owl,

Became impatient and cried foul.


I looked today; the tree had gone,

The sparkling vista shone as new,

But since I no more think of you,

There is no perfect view.

My Perfect View

◄ Give us all Your Money!

Still Life with Massacre ►


Profile image

Stephen Gospage

Sat 20th Apr 2024 09:13

My thanks to Nigel, Graham, Hugh, Tom, Hélène, Rob, K Lynn and Leon for their support.

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message