“State the fact,” he tells the board; “announce mid-
morning without warning; too late then to
retaliate; say, ‘times change – so on your
way; redundancy accompanies age.'”

Walks easy through his fortress-grounds of trip-
alarms and snarling hounds. Youthful bride is
safely sealed from vengeful pawn and bitter
foe, and waits, consoled by views of vale and
river’s-flow, gleaned through rail and safety-gates.

Mower idle on the lawn; barrow still
beside a wall; jobbing-boy holds toil in
scorn. ”We’ll propel the youth to manhood with
a jolt; he’ll learn the bitter-truth of how
to cope without a job or hope; he’ll get
what’s due, then face his fate as men must do.”

Holding high the diamond-ring, gift for the
girl with everything, to rent her love and
smile awhile; into the room where hi-fi
croons her favourite tunes then, “Christ!” Mind won’t
focus with the eyes… wife on table, lips
apart, hair a-splay, radiant as her
wedding-day… boy – a man between her thighs.

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In the early days I imagined myself wandering the lanes of England with a rucksack on my back and, maybe, something lively in my hip-flask. I saw myself sitting on a hill somewhere, scribbling poems and, hopefully, making enough to keep body and soul together. But life isn't like that and, after a few years at sea and in the army, I found myself with a wife and kids to keep. So now, with three novels wallowing on Kindle, I scribble the odd rhyme by way of a hobby and shove it on my blog. Hope someone out there finds them interesting.
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