caravan. holiday (Remove filter)
Flamborough Head
the flimsy frame rattles
as a doom laden bellow
pierces the smoky milk
shrieking away unwary
sailors straying close
to Yorkshires crumbling coast
like some creature
lost in torment
we cower
beneath dull yellow light
from sweet smelling
gas lamps
their cog wheels
turned up high
and wicks ablaze
to ward off the dark
a jigsaw unattended
its pieces spilling
c...
Wednesday 2nd April 2014 2:13 pm
Recent Comments
TobaniNataiella on She Says Goodbye
28 minutes ago
R A Porter on Sashaying to Byzantium
2 hours ago
Ray Miller on Dominoes
6 hours ago
Red Brick Keshner on Beneath the Armour: Reaching for True Strength
6 hours ago
Reggie's Ghost on Dominoes
7 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Early winter's day
7 hours ago
John Coopey on IT AIN'T ME, BABE
7 hours ago
John Marks on Early winter's day
7 hours ago
TobaniNataiella on She Says Goodbye
8 hours ago
Rick Varden on Sweet Memories
8 hours ago