Tuesday, April 28, 2015

My poetry spreadsheet has had a makeover!!

or perhaps more correctly, a spring clean! Hope you enjoy these ... comment welcome 

Only some of our journeys are planned

He was going the coming way
the driver explains and I’m sure
my grumped-up face shows  
that this is no reason for two vans
to be parked on my drive.

He who was going the coming way
arrived as the website to report
my lost bus pass crashes
which is why I’m at the window
during the swapping of parcels,

feeling as if I’m coming and going  
having tried to transfer credit
from my also-lost Oyster card
to a new one which now tells me
I must wait twenty-four hours

and nominate a station where
I can prove I am who I am,
and touch in on the card reader
but I can’t because tomorrow
I shall be going the coming way.

More than one degree

pull on hat
wrap around scarf
think about a fleece
button up waterproof
find welly socks,
clean tissues, gloves,
throw logs on fire
cajole dog from fire
knock mud from boots
squeeze feet into boots
clip on lead

slip on flip-flops
clip on lead

Poem in which I reach the last page

The conclusion of a good book
finds me in need of a map
of how to travel once
the diversion of its plot
reaches the last full stop.

I don’t have this trouble with
a no though road, I turn around,
head for its  openness, or the end
of a film, where the gap
between me and the screen

takes the measure of my footsteps,
and I can part very easily from
the final picture in a gallery
but after that good book has
held my hand, say, in the waiting room,

middle seated over Europe, or between
three and four in the morning,
after I’ve stowed the characters in my pocket,
worn the story as an extra layer when
I need to shop, swim, clean my teeth,

when, after all of that, I turn
the last page, close the back cover,
put away my bookmark,  I want
to give that good book a slap
for leaving to cast its spell on someone new.

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