One Summer…
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saw a Swastika van drive bye for the first and only time,
splashed around in the bend of the river beneath the cliff,
the council ash-truck broke down and their horse and cart came out of retirement,
the same for one of the dairy floats and out came their old horse-drawn float,
rode a donkey with a hemp-bag saddle along a wild rocky road in the west,
tagged along with the town milkman’s donkey cart as he delivered milk by the measure,
the Sikh called for the first time with a fine shimmering table cloth,
the English egg man bought a new station-wagon,
bought bread from both the breadmen’s vans,
collected laundry from the one van driver while the other looked on,
got my shoes delivered back heeled and soled from the Honda 50 shoeman,
watched the neighbourhood fathers mow the grass on the green,
played rounders, rugby, soccer, gaelic between the trees on afore said green,
was Illia Nastase and John McEnroe on the road’s concrete courts lined with tar,
picked blackberries from briers from the “farm” next door,
watched Old Tom as he hefted up the shafts of his horseless cart full of bottles.
One Summer…
Old Tom died alone,
the farm was paved over,
the concrete courts clogged up with cars,
the teams split up,
council workers started mowing the green,
the shoeman went out of busiess due to plastic soles,
the laundry vans stopped calling to homes,
the bread vans also disappeared,
the egg man’s heart retired him,
the Sikh found too few repeat sales,
the milkman and his donkey cart disappeared,
the donkey was put down,
the horses finally went to pasture,
both,
I felt the sting of swimming pool chlorine,
the Swastika Laundry closed down.
Summers…
…in another world.
One Summer,
with my daughter I built the biggest sand castle in the history of Clonea strand,
I layed the foundations of my son’s garden shed…
Whenever possible I buy blank greeting cards and write my own messages. It always feels good to create from my heart. I believe poetry is all around, in every thing and action and spontaneous speech. Renewed by the human spirit's appreciation of beauty and goodness. There is no unchanging standard that can reside in perfection in books rarely read.
I am a husband and father of 2. Starting to write down before forgetting.
Know what I like when I've read it, trying to get to grips with photography.
Gentleman of leisure, not uneducated, all spelling and grammar errors I lay upon my eyesight.
amazing
the only word my mouth has produced
after first read
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Gion Gion Reply:
December 17th, 2009 at 12:08 am
@rajdeep bhattacharya,
Thank you Rajdeep,
My eyes must be ageing fast as I found more mistakes in this post that slipped my bye. I think it is correct now, Glad you think it is amazing,
Fergus
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