by Barry Tebb
For Penny Abraham
I wish I had Auden’s penchant
For going about in carpet slippers
Or the late HRH Margaret’s panache-
A chauffered Rolls with six outriders-
This late December day with its sparkle of sun on frost
I’d so much rather be in Haworth’s cobbled street
With cascades of carols in torchlit procession
Or still better with a passionate friend to make love to
By Penistone Crags and then sit in post-coital bliss
In the tea-room, reading Claudel in whispers,
And not as I was, heading for Camden’s
December Trust Board Meeting, of which I’m not a member
But a regular attender, watching the watchers
At a comfortable distance, hoping to hear democracy’s arrthymia.
Last updated May 02, 2015