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Aquarius Buried Treasure Callanish S T O N E D Q U A R T Z McMac Pardon? Tattoo Camera Obscura High Creagan The West Highlander Pot Of Gold StarVoyagers Deep Breath Vulpes Vulgaris Richard |
H.M.S. Belfast Firing Range Royal Visit Crisp and Even Elizabeth Great Court S.T. Barnabas Runaway Vengence Weapon No 1 Water Trough Woolwich Ferry CloudBusting Segas Showing My Age 39 Rue Grande Nigel Knows Disco Not Cricket It Is Better Mind How You Go No Flowers Ashes to Ashes R.I.P. Feminist |
We often take for granted The sounds that fly abroad, And give not a second thought To those who nought record. Inside a deaf ear Noise will make its mark, But without those moist moving lips Reason would still be in the dark, Popping ears at altitude, Or deep within earths bowels, Bring a moving finger, or probing corner towels. Now worrying wax Blankets rustling leaves, Disturbs the night time slumber, A passport for stockinged thieves. But nurse with stirrup pump And water warm and soft Brings such rushing relief, As hairstyle hurried doffed. coiffure cuffed back And leaning head Receive a copies comforting, To stain the lint dark red. Then, straightening neck, Cupped hand restraining flood, Harking as sparrows squabble, A rush of anvils blood. The creaking polished wood floor, Wind sighing in the eaves, Pleasure as this syringing act Semi captiousness relieves. DOCTORS SURGERY GOREBRIDGE |