D’ye ever hink aboot the furthest part ay the desert in Egypt? / How there’s ridges ay sand – / that huvnae seen hoof or foot or bike or tortoise or bucket or spade,
We’ve been playing unobserved
in the old brickyard, a place abandoned
to its toy-town railway, rusty iron tubs.
You email of a goldcrest, drawn
by your window light, this fresh spring
to watch you write.
Each time I called for him he was perfectly ready,equipment checked and in smooth order,pared to essentials. And I, cluttered with gadgets,would clatter behind as he led the way downstairs. In the boat, as befits a sedulous angler,he was taciturn, though between essential wordshe would give that courteous, gentle smilethat was his signature, before his […]
Looks forward to being old and alone,
The carer with a spoon,
We were eating chip potatoes underneath the April stars
/ That glittered coldly and aloof from earth and earthly wars;
/ We were three…
you playfully punched
Three thousand miles and nearly half a year
/ Away from a drab November afternoon, hysterics
/ Of friends forgotten, and also the plain…
It’s been a long time
all the time we’ve spent
and we’ve had such times
welcome as sunshine
In the depth of winter
/ In the dark of night
/ There was only one house,
/ Only one light.
/ I walked down the…
Remembering Tessa Ransford, 1938–2015
/ When Gavin circulated the news
/ I shed a tear or two that early autumn day.
/ What else…