1205

Anniversary haiku

Is there something for

Forty six years?  There should be;

We both deserve it.

Brian Hick 10.9.12

©copyright Sally Hick 30.7.24

 1204

We did not want to go to France

But, since we've returned

Everything seems different.

You probably know why

But I'm confused.

This quiet unforced content

Seems oddly strange.

Normally a holiday might last

A few days, if we're lucky,

Then the clouds return

Reducing every hour to work

And Love to something we recall

But can't enact today.

Slowly we realise

That everything could be

Like this

At peace

At one

Not just when we're away

But now

And all I have to do is to accept

That love has been there

Even when

I feared that it had gone

And I was wrecked;

For love, which came so many years ago

Has never left me, even when I thought

I was alone, and all I had was nought.

Brian Hick September 2012

©copyright Sally Hick 25.7.24

 1203

It must be the end of the season,

At Kensington Spaghetti House

I eat my pizza from the inside out

Leaving the crusts

They all curve the same way.

Brian Hick  August 2012

©copyright Sally Hick 23.7.24

 1202

The special of the

Day is beef ravioli

With a pink sauce. Why?

Brian Hick August 2012

©copyright Sally Hick 18.7.24

 1201

Hastings Station

'Fuck me,' she said, as

She waddled towards the stairs;

'I'm taking the lift.'

Brian Hick August 2012

©copyright Sally Hick 16.7.24

 1200

Why are we going to France?

This must be the end.

We've had enough

Of airport queues

To drive us round the bend!

Why are we going to France

When we can walk from home

Down to the beach

And back again

Without needing to roam.

Why are we going to France

When all we need is here?

The tide is out

The sun is up

Let's just sit by the pier.

Why are we going to France

When we can sit and think

On the terrace

Of this hotel

With Biddenden's to drink?

Why are we going to France

When the sea's so calm?

A two-year-old

Could jump the waves

Without coming to harm.

Why are we going to France

When, from across the bay,

The yachts and downs

Smile at us

Through the morning haze.

Why are we going to France

When we can always be,

Whatever the troubles

Dog the coast,

Beside this wine dark sea?

Brian Hick August 2012

©copyright Sally Hick 15.7.24

 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