My parents were keen walkers 
They strolled the Cleveland Way 
To Boggle Hole 
From Robin Hood's Bay 
With me and sister, Cleo, in tow 
Whining as our rucksacks hurt our backs 
Snail-like creeping  
Noisily hawking into bushes 
Leaving a trail of gobbing  
Smirking at the phlegm drip dropping 
Off the twigs 
 
To break the ennui 
We tore branches from cherry trees 
Tossed them into Mill Beck 
And watched them whoosh 
Under the bridge and out to sea 
 
Petals on wet black boughs. 
 
Scarborough holidays 
In North Bay beach huts 
Seal spotting 
Boat trips on the Queensbury  
Peasholm Park afternoons 
Canoeing on the lake 
Playing warships  
I was the Bismarck...sunk...again 
Cleo, as always, the “African Queen” 
 
The parkie hollered 
And chased us away 
Me soaking, dripping, 
Running, laughing. 
Over the bridge to the Chinese Gardens 
Cleo still dry 
Until I pushed her in 
And held her under 
Cold  
Wet 
Vengeance 
Con bri...o. 
 
Magical days 
 
Lashing logs together 
White water racing in Wharfedale 
Cleo ahead  
– she always always always led 
Whooping loudly 
“Ride ‘em cowboy” 
Until she smashed against a boulder     
I laughed  
As her craft fell apart 
 
My last laugh was short-lived 
Typically 
Cleo spoiled my victory 
By flapping on the riverbank 
Battered, twitching foaming, gasping. 
 
The ambulance copter 
Arrived too late to save her. 
 
My parents followed  
Not long after 
 
At a Kayak Fishing match 
In Runswick Bay 
They capsized 
Their bodies lost at sea  
Last seen heading Whitby way. 
 
The sole beneficiary? Me. 
 
...It's an ill wind… 
 
With shrewd investments - buy to rent 
I made a fortune - heaven sent 
And bought a villa, tax free,  
On Skiathos 
Where wine is cheap 
Fish are jumping  
And the living is easy. 
 
These days 
The Aegean teems 
With fishes 
Of a different species 
 
Face down floaters 
 
I'm sick of stopping migrant dirt 
In repro Man United shirts 
Boarding my yacht while I want to laze  
Ouzo drinking 
 
What a pity that dinghy's sinking. 
 
And I'm sick of being haunted 
By the shoals 
Of stick limbed apparitions 
Clutching dollies 
Bobbing face down in flowery dresses... 
 
...Petals on a wet black bough