The conduct of a war
requires a general's mind,
clear strategies at core;
brilliance is kind.As the months draw out,
patience is no vice,
attrition no redoubt,
honour not suffice.Victory so sweet,
peace that we might thrive -
throw flowers at his feet
if we are alive...................
BBC news up loud as I return my chickens,
a sick blue-green along the eastern horizon.
Self-publicizing fool who thinks to run our schools,
imagine a biro running all over his face.
Slate grey clouds glowering at the dark west.
Any chance of England being devolved from Westminster?A bright planet due west, flashes and in-betweens into a plane,
dismantling romance, heading for Manchester airport.A car full of stunned statues driven by an automaton.
Blue drains of bile - cloud skirts tint salmon.
Goodbyes nuzzle in the porch and go in;
but put on Bob with his Memphis blues again
(pass the rotting churchyard in Warmingham),
and roll along the road back to caffeine.........................
No frost again this morning,
yet a raw wind rises,
and a golden sunball
cracks open mudstone cloud-banks.
Birds venture a brief chorus,
flit about and warble,
showing willing honors,
pigeons at their matins -
and low puffs of cloud smoke,
from a dragon stirring,
hurtle twice as fast as
any other cloud mass....
YOU ARE READING
February And Beyond
PoetryThis ark will take me through to springtime - 'the pretty pretty ring time'.