I once moved country
With a sleeping bag
A dictionary
Two dresses
A blue t-shirt
One pair of jeans
And a change of underwear
To live in a nine foot
Square box with no
Toilet or fridge
I cooked ravioli
In the tin over
A five euro
Electric kettle
And washed both
Food and clothing
In the bidet
Entertaining friends
One at a time
As I acquired
A single mug
With no handle
Singing songs
With strangers
Who were also
Far from home
So do not dare
To presume
That I will permit
Myself to acknowledge
The inconvenience
Of personal growth
There are other things
Upon this Earth
That chafe
Water
Winter’s War
The season has brought with her
Blustery blows
To trail leaves and scatter
Wherever she goes
The sky with her cloak
Is soon clouded and grey
As drips thunder downward
We run while we may
With twisting and turning
She tears limbs from trees
As forestry’s mistress
Will do as she’s pleased
Humanity’s dwelling
Is breeched by a beech
With windows that splinter
As roofs start to pitch
And foam less sweet-smelling
Is blown toward the beach
For nothing we know
Is held out of her reach
While Winter enjoys herself
Cosy and warm
We huddle in blankets
And hide from the storm
Our shelters may topple
As Nature holds sway
The Earth, baked and brittle
Returned to damp clay
She turns to her Captain
Proud Weather in pride
The borders of Britain
Have started to slide
With rivers that spread themselves
Stretch their banks wide
The water soon rises
Full moon and fell tide
This world we call small
Soon unmanned and unknown
What land we had conquered
Returned to her throne
Jerusalem Nativity
Blackened cloud, torrential rain
A flood of cheerful dripping splashed
To irrigate our thirsty plain
And water lawns where drought had lashed
To prickly desert once again
Verboten hosepipe, coiled and dry
Now stretch the root and drink it down
This manna falling from the sky
So all may see how Fortune vaults
And stamps her foot at those who’d planned
To sell this Earth, the very salt
That makes our verdant, pleasant land
