Pastures New

Pastures new 1-EditWe must pack our bags and go
to the limits that we know
And beyond, to virgin fields
Where the greener grasses grow.
Journey far and travel lightly,
With our weary steps made sprightly
By the distant prospect’s glow.

1992

On the Beach

My Daddy is a teacher
From nine till half past three,
And Mummy works all day and night
Just doing things for me.

When Mummy’s work is finished,
(She says she’s never done)
They put me in their little car
To take me for a run.

I have a bright red bucket
Which Mummy bought for me,
And a little pale blue plastic spade
For digging by the sea.

We go down to the seaside
And find a sheltered space,
They doze or read, I make sand pies
Or crawl about the place.

While Daddy talks to Mummy
I fill my mouth with sand,
And then I climb all over them
With more in either hand.

They’re very patient with me,
I really can’t complain,
So when they’ve brushed the sand all off
I do it once again.

At last the sun is setting
And a calm falls on the sea,
And both of them seem very glad
When a calm descends on me.

I take my little plastic spade,
I clutch my bucket red,
And Daddy puts me on his back
And takes me home to bed.

For Helier 2nd April 1971

Mimosa

When I smell mimosa
I remember the hill
With our school half way down
And the sea far below.
We ran there happily
At the start of each day.
And climbed home reluctant
In the afternoon heat.
At a bend in the hill
Where the sea fell from view,
An ancient mimosa
Hung over the wall.
The flowers touched the clouds
And its roots reached the sea,
Its scent fell around us
As we ran underneath.

When I smell mimosa
I remember the hill
With our school half way down
And the sea far below ……

March 1982