1241

If I had brought an I-pad for the trip,

Instead of looking calmly at the view,

I'd be finding lots of things to do

Like reading emails, surfing, letting rip

While scanning page by page things I don't need,

Celebrities of whom I've never heard,

Scandals from every corner of the world,

None of it worth the time it takes to read.

So here I am, the only one in sight,

Looking, listening to what is here

Rather than entranced, from ear to ear,

By thumping bass-lines, or the warlords' fight.

How odd to find myself alone, again;

The only one who knows he's on a train.

Brian Hick January 2013

©copyright Sally Hick 17.1.25 

 1240

There's snow in the air and ice upon the rut;

Skeletal forms, unmoving and unmoved,

Stark reminders of Death's scything cut.

There's snow in the air.

Grey the street and grey the sky, amazed

By silence after all the Christmas glut

Of ice-rink carols and town centres' paved

With wooden huts, bratwurst, the gentle phut

Of hand-cranked roundabouts; all now passed

Dark as ashes from the Yule - but

There's snow in the air.

Brian Hick January 2013

©copyright Sally Hick 15.1.25

 1238

Old Curmudgeon

Contuncious all the way to Birmingham

With children squibbling up and down the aisles;

Red headed stockers in their red-lined worlds,

Furiously stabbling ipads all the whilst

Oblivious to the noticles for quiet

The mutters from retired, Tonbridge Walls,

Who bought his ticket thirteen weeks ago

Hoping to read his book on Bulgan Smalls;

But no, the snozzing chorus and the slap

Of well filed finger nails on viral screens

Skirp his thoughts and purpulate his mind

Till losing his contribulation, screams

            Can't you read, you blasterds - it's the law

            No I-saws here - who won the bloody war?

Brian Hick January 2013

©copyright Sally Hick 13.1.25

 1239

Sushi on the train

Then bavette before Bridge

Britten and Elgar.

Perfick!

After fish knives and

Forks, we have a drinks cupboard;

Oh how middle class.

Brian Hick January 2013

©copyright Sally Hick 10.1.25

 1237

This pub must be in

The Mediterranean;

No one speaks English

But the Polish man

At the bar knows I'm hoping

For another glass.

Wine

Is an international

Language.

Brian Hick January 2013

©copyright Sally Hick 8.1.25

 1236

    To be honest

       I needed

     A small child

          Then

The links between

   Digital projector

            And

       Computer

 Would have taken

    Two minutes

           Not

      Two hours

Brian Hick January 2013

©copyright Sally Hick 6.1.25

1235

New Year 2013

The old year ended in a fit of squalls

Lashing rain and wind from off the sea

Keeping us indoors to clear the dregs

Of staling Christmas cake and cold turkey.

But the new-year's sun rose undefiled

To warm the downlands and our winter hearts

As we strode out to Alfriston, across

Firle Beacon, Bostlal Hill and parts

So muddy that we'd rather not recall

Their dank reality, preferring more

The joy of fierce light from out the east

And life returning from cold earth's core.

            No larks above, but our way is clear

            As we set out to face this brand new year.

Brian Hick January 2013

©copyright Sally Hick 3.1.25