1189

5th August

My can of Stella

On the train wishes me a 

Merry Christmas.

Brian Hick August 2012

©copyright Sally Hick 28.6.24

Dear reader, I will be away until Friday and so will not be posting Brian's next poems until then. Sally 

 1188 Isle of Wight - various oddments (4)

How good to know that

After all these years horse-shoes

Still hold their value.

Brian Hick July 2012

As a child, Brian had a miniature horse-shoe

made by a farrier on the Isle of Wight as a souvenir.

In our teens, Brian gave the said horse-shoe to me

as remembrance while he was away.

©Sally Hick 24.7.24

 1188 Isle of Wight - various oddments (3)

               Holiday lunchtime;

                    Blue slush

                      Kitcats

                    And chips.

Brian Hick July 2012

©copyright Sally Hick 21.7.24

(2012 holiday with our granddaughter)

 1188 Isle of Wight - various oddments (2)

Six empty tables between me and a family munching burgers

Then the window across the Duver, houses half hidden by trees

Grey and distant the open downs, where I would rather be than here

Oh anywhere than here

And why? It makes no sense for you are here as much as you are there

But I'm not here when my heart aches to be there on that distant hill

alone with you and the wind...

Brian Hick July 2012

©copyright Sally Hick 20.6.24

 1188 Isle of  Wight - various oddments (1)

Nelson

What did he think as

He climbed aboard the skiff that

Last time for Victory?

A green woodpecker,

In the rain, casually

Pecks up unseen ants.

Hannah is crabbing

I have the line and

The ham, Sally the bucket;

Hannah is crabbing

Red whiskered bulbul

With a Mohican haircut.

A red-headed bird from

The Antiques Roadshow.

We read labels, ticked off what we saw,

Amused by birds who tweeted and a pair

Of copulating tortoises....

Thank you for being at the water's edge

Meeting me where harbour footings thrash...

Brian Hick July 2012 (holidaying with our granddaughter on the Isle of Wight) 

©Sally Hick 19.6.24

 1187

         Sunday on the Stade

          Sitting in the queue

To park, while you're in Bluereef,

          Cuts the parking fee;

                  However

          It seems they are all

     Leaving, so I find a place

        To park quite quickly;

             Which means

         Paying for the car

     And sitting with a coffee,

      While you view the fish.

Brian Hick July 2012

©copyright Sally Hick 18.6.24

 1186

Magic Forest

A magic forest, so I looked for You

In the Serpent's  Nest and Mystic Pond

The Indian Totem and the forest view;

But it seemed that You were far beyond

These tricks, which made me feel the You were there;

For all I found, thought pleasant, was the art

Of conjuring the surreal from the air

When all the time, You kept from me apart.

Deep in the woods the deer cropped unconcerned,

The peacocks lurked for snacks by picnic tables,

Sheep rambled the vineyards, while I yearned

To find You in the midst of ancient fables.

Then I heard you laugh - Can you not see

That everything you look upon - is Me.

Brian Hick July 2012

©copyright Sally Hick 17.6.24

 1185

Groombridge Place

I'd scanned the photographs

Deleted the dull or blurred

And those already lost to memory

But even then the ones I thought I'd keep

Did not beg for comment -

Even the casual lines

My mother used to write upon her snaps -

The endless views of summer flower beds

And country houses visited by us.

It isn't that I can't;

It's that the urge, the urgency,

The fire is not there;

And all the beauties of this summer's day

Are lost when thought, unfocussed, goes astray.

Brian Hick July 2012

©copyright Sally Hick 14.6.24

 1184

A team leader for 2012

Is on the phone

In Mandarin

Giving instructions on using the internet

To change shift times

Before tomorrow morning.

I understood it all

And I don't speak Mandarin.

G4S is doing a better job

Than I imagined.

They are all speaking in tongues.

Brian Hick June 2012 (The team leader referred to

was working with Brian marking exam papers)

©Sally Hick 13.6.24

 1183

Just as I'd chosen all the verse

To reflect our dreadful weather

The sun came out, the coats came off,

And everyone felt better!

So, back to the drawing board to find

Something a bit more snappy

Assuming that the clear skies hold

And everyone's still happy.

Brian Hick June 2012

©copyright Sally Hick 12.6.24

 1181

This page is as empty as my mind - 

Buzzing with words, yet not a one in a place

To help construct a thought worth passing on.

Words fit so easily, as if each space

Were pre-ordained and, long before you read

These lines, the layout on the page told you

It must make sense because it looks so right,

So neat, so tidy, rhymes so good and true;

Yet by now I expect you've realised

That just because this poem's in sonnet form

It may have nothing in its fourteen lines

More than the words themselves, and it will dawn

            On you that words are simply not enough

            For poems must be made of sterner stuff.

Brian Hick June 2012

©copyright Sally Hick 11.6.24

1180

My heart is yours; although some might insist

It's just a pump, we've always known better

And now we've facts the sceptics can't resist.

My heart is yours.

It seems my heart has never been in fetter

To my brain -  assuming that's the gist

Of new research - and what I think is debtor

To those fifty years since we first kissed.

The Age of Reason may have made life neater

But oh how dull if Love were off the list.

My heart is yours.

Brian Hick June 2012

©copyright Sally Hick 10.6.24

 1179

I prepare a blank page for you to write on

And wait

Clearing my mind, settling myself

In hope

Not for some magic still small voice

But faith

That in the silence I will hear

Nothing

For your love drowns out the noise of words.

Brian Hick June 2012

©copyright Sally Hick 7.6.24

 1178

You trotted in to say a last goodbye

But I had more important things in mind

And did not realise, until today,

That that was it - there'd be no other time

To savour a last look, a final thought,

Take a final photo of you there

Amongst the roses or above the fence

Scratching in the early morning air.

The squirrels entertain and unnamed cats

Wander through to sit atop the shed

But they're not you, and though they pass the time

Your foxiness is still inside my head

As if the world beyond mere humankind

Were channelling itself through your bright mind.

Brian Hick June 2012

©copyright Sally Hick 6.6.24

 1177

They've gone to the prom - and

I have finished marking for the day.

There's nothing on TV -

I do not care to read -

But Opus 18 No 1

Is soothing as I try

To make some sense

Of where I've got to

In these last few weeks.

Moving could have been a trial

But passed by without notice.

The marking now is almost done

The job ticks over without stress

All the things I choose to do are fine.

So what is lurking, smugly, out of sight,

Weighing at the edge

Waiting to catch me off guard?

Why do I suspect

You smile?

Brian Hick June 2012

©copyright Sally Hick 5.6.24

 1176

Where is the summer? It seems to have missed us

Down here in Hastings, where the sea is rough

And tourists cower with ketchup, chips and huss.

Where is the summer?

There were some days in May which beamed enough

To make us hope this year there'd be no fuss -

Just weeks and weeks of sun, and not a puff

Of cloud in sight - but now we lurk and cuss

The endless downpours, flash floods and the knell

Which drowns all thought of warmth this side of Hell.

Where is the summer?

Brian Hick June 2012

©Sally Hick 4.6.24 (same sentiment now)

 1175

An Edwardian garden where the rain

Unnoticed softens paths and gently greys

The edges of the distant weather vane.

An Edwardian garden.

A blackbird unseen its welcome lays

Lightening the silence of the country lane

Where hollyhocks in hedgerows wait the blaze

Of early sun to warm the window pane

At which she stands - her unwavering gaze

Oblivious, until he comes again.

An Edwardian garden.

Brian Hick June 2012

©copyright Sally Hick 3.6.24