Tuesday, 18 September 2012

"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

Chew some willow bark
Nature's aspirin

Copyright © 1st December 2011
All  photos Copyright © Res JFB 21st September 2012
Top photo Copyright © Ann Gregan 21st September 2012

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