"November Scribblings"

My cottage lay

In the shadow of Carn Brae

Last hill in England

The bus drivers knew

My bus stop….the third gorse bush

After Henwood’s haystack

Dead fox hill

So steep, so straight, so fast

Reynard’s bane

Two dogs… five fields over

Waiting for the school bus

My boy’s welcome home

The flooded clay-pit
Where the post-man drowned himself
Our summer playground

Our horizon was dark

Until distant St Buryan

Got it’s first street light

Six miles from the sea

But when the Sou-Westerlies blew

Salt on our lips and windows

The weeping willow

Trailing it’s many fingers

In the passing stream

Headache?

Chew some willow bark

Nature's aspirin

Copyright © 1st December 2011

All  photos Copyright © Res JFB 21st September 2012
except
Top photo Copyright © Ann Gregan 21st September 2012