1475

The pigeons and the squirrels get along.

Below the garden wall a young squirrel

Forages for seeds

Stopping when she finds one

Alert to any competition

Then

On hind legs

Sits and eats.

A lazy wood-pigeon

Waddles down the path

Pecking aimlessly at anything

Which comes in view,

Back to back

They ignore each other

Only concerned when foreigners -

Magpies casing the garden

Humans putting out seed -

Interrupt their placid

Acceptance

At which point they disappear

But not for long

Having more in common

Than we with them.

Brian Hick June 2016

©copyright Sally Hick 17.6.26

 1474

Budget

Apart from the one in London

They have a house in France

A home in Grindelwald

All big - so everyone can congregate.

On the day the poor were

Smashed, income decimated

And those without

Promised less.

How can I do this and not feel guilty?

How can I be giving up the fight?

While I am drinking Pimms and eating Salmon

The country's poor are sinking out of sight.

A   Budget which has ripped the heart from families

Who up to now have just about survived

But take away all benefit and succour

And how are any of them now to live?

But carryon! Don't worry for the people

The champagne dregs are bound to trickle down

Or better still if IT takes their places

We're shot of them for ever - thank the Lord.

Brian Hick June 2015

©copyright Sally Hick 15.6.26

 1473

Today I am a

Real commuter with coffee

And croissant in hand.

Brian Hick June 2015

©copyright Sally Hick 12.6.26

 1472

How much do I love you?

             No, not  you, the Divine

But those much closer to me

             My own kith and kin.

How much do I love you?

             Let me show the way

Not in high-flown language

             But the everyday

Where words are not the only

             Way to let you know

All you've ever meant to me

             Watching as you grow

From child to ratty teenager

             From youth to adulthood

Caring for you day by day

             Regardless of your mood.

For love is not a flowering

Of sentimental verse

A birthday card with bunny rabbits

Pussy cats - or worse -

But midnight listening on the stairs

             A waiting by the door

When you were sick or out with friends

             Fearing the worse before

You recover or breeze in

             Oblivious to me

Shoot up the stairs, without a word,

             Or make a cup of tea.

And all the time the love that binds

             Us to one another

Has hidden in the crevices

             Of sister, mother, brother.

Our reservation at excess

             Refusal to emote

May seem off-hand to the world

             Uncaring or remote,

But we know what we really feel

             Deep within our heart

For love that does not need to shout,

             Enduring from the start,

Will far outlast the extrovert

             The banner high unfurled;

For love that does not flaunt itself

             Has overcome the world.

Brian Hick June 2015

©Sally Hick 8.6.26

 1471

There are no rules in Poetry

The trendy teacher said

So all the children wrote a poem

Which had no form or structure

And simply dribbled on

Until it stopped.

If poetry has no rules

When does it stop being pros?

Brian Hick June 2015

©copyright Sally Hick 6.4.26

 1470

Mushrooms

Trays and trays upon a Tesco shelf

Identical in size and number

Perfect forms, perfect condition

And yet

The sell-by date tells us that in a while

Crisp bodies will turn soft

Oozing to repugnant sludge;

Wasted.

No resurrection here.

Brian Hick June 2015

©copyright Sally Hick 4.6.26

 1469

Where once the Drove Road ambled to the coast

To ship the lambs to London and the west

It peters out in terraces and lanes

Suburbanised with Chardonnay and toast.

No shepherds lead their flock across the Downs,

No lambs gambol slowly to the sea;

The sheep are segregated from the road

Which seers its croncrete way into the ground,

And though the seasons keep their wonted place

Rolling on impervious to change

The Downs lie silent underneath the roar

Of Tesco lorries angling to displace

The peace that you created at the start

To resonate within each loving heart.

Brian Hick May 2016

©copyright Sally Hick 30.5.26