British Leyland (Remove filter)
Harry
Harry and Morris were together all those twenty years
Theirs was not the Oxford of dreaming spires;
not screaming tyres,
but purring, perfect, permanence.
And then,
and then.......
The legacy of.....
Countless years of........
Stirring and striking,
destructive infighting;
poor Morris died.
No nightmares for the spires,
just Harry pined
No more would his hands
caress t...
Thursday 10th December 2009 7:44 am
Recent Comments
Stephen Gospage on Look! Here's Me as an Action Figure!
52 minutes ago
Stephen Gospage on The Bitter Cup
1 hour ago
R A Porter on Goodbye, America
2 hours ago
Hélène on Instructions For Bedtime
2 hours ago
Hélène on The Bitter Cup
2 hours ago
Holden Moncrieff on Trees.
2 hours ago
Hélène on Favorite Poet
2 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on 'Goodnight'
2 hours ago
Graham Sherwood on Angry Man
4 hours ago
Auracle on Write Out Loud looks back … at the early days of lockdown. How did poets cope?
4 hours ago