Aneld Erlyper Son

She's oh so unpredictable,
With her mind in her carrier bag.
But, isn't she sensible.
Oh! What a life she had.
Her bus pass in safe.
In a pools coupon envelope.
I wonder what became of that?
And my: That hat!
It's something else.
Mind you. She is getting on.
Getting on the bus.



Capability Red    1980

Let Me Write About The Places I Know

Let me write about the places I know,
the plants that grow and flowers in the garden.
Allow me to sit on a bench by a tree
from where I can see: Life's to's and fro's, beggin' your pardon.

And after wandering a meandering mile,
I'll shelter for a while in faraway sleepy Shaldon.
Reflecting upon; things that float, like fishing boats
My ancestors once built in Maldon.

With borrowed words that'll never return
Or, let me earn a living from my writing.
I'll fritter away this boring routine,
recording what I've seen: Nothing particularly exciting.

If I ride on board a bus or a train.
Pausing yet again at bustling Waterloo Station.
Sitting alone, I'll memorize and eulogize
each time framed observation.

I'll try to describe in verse or rhyme, how
Time after time, people hurry around me.
So. Let me write about these places I know.
Before I go: Beyond this world that surrounds me.



Capability Red   June 2014