Thursday, 11 March 2010
Come and find me where I'd like to be.
Amid mid-suburbia, in a floating street.
A house boat. In a convoy. Buoyant Bricks and Mortar.
I'll be draped in crisp linen,
A tapered, straight necked, blue and white striped shirt.
Standing under a not yet risen sun.
I will draw out my days,
On off-white, pulpy paper,
In black ink and even strokes.
The neighbours are never the same,
but we like them all,
they lend us sugar and conversation,
We can cuddle and talk,
into the crook of each other's neck,
We can go a little silly.
As the sun sails over, the shade grows,
We light pipes, fish and read papers,
appreciating the breeze,
If you want to,
you can stand on the deck and giggle,
or cry, if you've forgotten why we're here.
By night, I'll wear my hat,
and thick woollen jumper,
the one with the wooden buttons,
I'll sit there with my cup of coffee,
and speak softly to the captains of
the other house boats drifting by.
I hope you like where I'd like to be,
Initially, it will take a lot of effort,
but we'll settle in, eventually.