Print

Print


Another little poem

All I live for is me drink
And panning the dregs of poetry
For a nugget.
I range centuries
And sit in the present.
Trying to excoriate the `I'
Which lives in my head.
Takes a gallon of Bellringer for that.
The rain beats down on the new patio
With its view over Bath.
House paintwork in desperate need of the brush.
I wait for the downpour
To ease my delivery to the pub.



%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%