996
All I wanted was a little time;
A break, to sit on the beach,
To think, perhaps to write
And certainly not to talk;
Definately not to talk.
But we were not alone
And so we talked
Endlessly
Pointlessly
And I could not think
Could not write
Until I got home
And spat this out.
What a waste.
Brian Hick August 2011
©copyright Sally Hick 19.9.23
956
Saxon Shore Way 1
The maps are checked; the rooms booked for the night;
The route is clear; the weather whould be bright;
Emails arrive confirming all is well,
And we are ready - as far as we can tell.
And yet, I need to quieten the tide
Of thoughts that could so easily collide
With all I hope these walking hours might be-
A chance to concentrate and maybe see
Beyond the working problems and the net
Of memories, which I could shed, and yet
Which cling as if my life might not exist
Without their presence lurking in the mist.
Will the Saxon Shore's elusive mystery
Be enough to turn this tide for me?
Brian Hick summer 2011
©copyright Sally Hick 5.7.23
950
Done
Tha vex me, blood; the voice came from the hood
Which stood beside me in the corner shop,
And I admit I thought - this isn't good!
Tha vex me, blood
He said again, before I'd time to hop
Behind a stack of soup tins; so I stood
And said I'm sorry, which seemed to stop
Him in his tracks. i'd not meant to be rude
I mumbled, as he shifted on the spot
Said Tha's ok and left; so I could brood,
Tha vex me, blood.
Brian Hick 2011
©Sally Hick 21.6.23
938
Tuesday morning back to work
No coffee on the train;
The sun still shines, the wind is cold,
But cannot stir my brain
Which rests somewhere beside the sea
Or near St John's, Smith Square,
Basking in the Easter heat-
Anywhere but here.
There are not many on the train,
Some phones have started ringing;
Yet when we get to Tunbridge Wells
Most round me are snoozing.
The underground at Canon Street
Is closed in all directions
So I must walk to Monumnet
Thus missing my connection
To Wickford, but at least this train
Is running after Easter;
Be thankful for small mercies, sir,
It's not quite a disaster.
Brian Hick April 2011
©copyright Sally Hick 17.5.23
924
I realise now there are things I'll never see,
Places I won't reach. Even though
I don't feel death is imminent - and maybe
I'll live another forty years - I grow
Ever more aware that Time is short
And getting ever shorter by the day;
For though I still feel fit, enoy a walk,
Relentless Time chips and chips away
The confidence I had that I could do
Anything, and all I may achieve
Is limited to what this fragile frame
And even frailer mind is subject to,
Despite the coming end, I'll still believe
That Life is more than pessimism's pain.
Brian HIck April 2011
©copyright Sally Hick 17.4.23
