1199

Have I been too busy or can it be

That for the last three days

Nothing has prompted me to write?

Sitting here, pen in hand,

It seems as though the need to write

Has faded while the pile of things to do

Jostles for attention

And my mind,

Which finds it easy to write on the train

Or in a hotel bar

Cramps in the face of lists and letters,

Of emails and request for answers now.

Is this a poem?

Well, it looks like one,

And will have to do until

Something better comes along.

Brian Hick August 2012

©copyright Sally Hick 12.7.24

 1198

         Oscar at 4

       Can I have my

Froggie watering can?

 I won't water the cat.

Brian Hick August 2012

©copyright Sally Hick 11.7.24

 1197

The Romney, Hythe and Dymchurch Railway

In the August sun.

Look the guard's waving his flag,

Oh, won't this be fun!

An over-large American,

Concerned for her small hound,

Talks loudly all the way down to

New Romney, and the sound

Of her Primary Teacher's voice

Drowns out the hiss of seam;

And the lurking wine dark sea,

Which can just be seen

Between the houses on the coast

From Hythe to Dungerness,

Is ignored, in favour of

Her pooch's panting breath.

The train speeds up, the kids look out

To wave at all who stand

As we flash by, at walking speed,

Along to Romney Sands

Then through the tunnel to arrive

At our destination

For souvenirs and lunch perhaps

Brought at New Romney Station.

Behold the men who stand around

Admiring the Engineer

Who tinkers with the wheels and valves

Oiling here and there

While the mums sort out the kids,

Those bouncing for the loo

From those demanding an ice cream

Or something else to do -

'Cos if you're twelve, you're far above

All these childish things,

A family outing on the train's

Like - just - embarrassing.

But now it's time to take the train

Back along the line

Squashed with other visitors

All having a great time.

The whistle blows, we're nearly there,

Steaming to the station.

Bye ye' all. I hope you have

A really great vacation!

We wander back towards the car,

Left parked in the sun,

Wishing it were yesterday, for

The holidays are now done,

And even if the memory

Of days like this may last

All too soon they will become

Just smoke, circling the past.

Brian Hick August 2012

©copyright Sally Hick 10.7.24

 1196

I've painted the shed and once again it seems

Like wood, rather than the grey expanse

Of dying timber, rotting on its beams.

I've painted the shed.

I had to wait until a sudden lance

Of sunlight held the field and hidden dreams

Basked in its warmth, as if the sullen trance

Of winter had been broken and soft streams,

Self motivated, brought the summer's dance

To saturation while the damp wood steams.

I've painted the shed.

Brian Hick August 2012

©copyright Sally Hick 9.7.24

 1194

Cramp in both my calves

Is surely unusual?

One at a time - please?

1195

Mini-cheddars and

Carlsburg on the London train;

Some simple pleasures.

Brian Hick August 2012

©copyright Sally Hick July 2024

 1193

The sun is setting

Clouds hang pink and grey.

All is till;

But for the gulls.

It seems nobody told them about times & seasons,

Their hack and cackle does not rest at night,

It does not modify across the day,

And here, within our perfect English garden,

I hear

Finger nails tear down a dark chalk board,

The shriek of an arthritic hinge,

A rabbit eviscerated by a fox

Yet

Each would be more welcome

For at least,

One off,

They would cease in time,

But gulls...

Brian Hick August 2012

©copyright Sally Hick 2024

 1192

            Nessun Dorma

Our neighbour

            With the big blue van

Wakes us up

            When'er he can,

Slamming doors

            Long before five

Just to check

            We're still alive;

Then his dog

            Barks from the door

As he loads

            The van, before

Starting the engine

            With a roar

And shouting to his wife,

            To ensure

That all of us

            Are now awake,

Before at last

            His leave he takes,

So that, before

            It starts to rain,

Everything

            Is quiet again!

Brian Hick August 2012

©copyright Sally Hick 4.7.24