A quiet space in London’s abyss

10pm and a place to sit

Seeing Toby who’s character and wit

Wakes me up and keeps me lit

Saturday nights in the centre of town

Heavy drinking and thumping sounds

We find some quiet away from the crowds

Sharing thoughts till homeward bound

Thank you Toby for sitting with me

Always listening (or pretending to be)

See you soon hopefully

Get home safe and say hey to Penny

Evenings fly by so quickly
Days flash past with no mercy
Friends and loved ones comes second
The clocks feel like they’ve broken
The world turns fast under foot
Time is known but not understood

Find a grounding and hold tight
You’re in for a long night
For it will swoop past
A category 10 blast
A day lost to history
No mystery 

The vehicle of meaning in a modern world
Friend ships shape the young and old
True companions of the heart find grip
That rarely let go but occasionally tip

The more you acquire, the harder to keep
The fewer you hold, the less they compete
The older you get, the more they matter
For man on his own will age much faster

Others set sail before you can blink
Some run aground and inevitably sink
But all connect us to a greater existence
The human endeavour of greatest Persistence 

The end of an era
But I hear her
Calling me back
Gripping me harder

Harder than the quiet
The peace I awake too
A pleasure it has been to sit and dwell
But I hear her

Whispering to come back
To life as it was
The circus of emotion and ambition
Brutish said Hobbes

“Don’t be scared”, she says
“The emotion will pass
What you achieve with your day
Will surely last”

Her voice is close by
Like an echo returning home
Circling around me
Vibrating my bones

I can feel her presence
But I didn’t foresee
Or think for one moment
That perhaps she was me

A message left behind
Intended to persuade
To call myself back
Stear me this way

A trail of breadcrumbs
To a life hard and fast
When all I wanted
Was our holiday to last
 

The tunnels of London an extreme conundrum
World class engineering yet terrible steering
Women standing but men sitting
Baby’s crying and the elderly reading

Mayfair hats next to builders bags
Shiny suits and worn out boots
Packed in tight with very little light
Silence amid the crowds piled in

London at its best and it’s worst
It’s care and it’s lust
Hated and loved
By all races and faces 

Get up, get up
Did you not hear what I said
Ferocious in the morning
Is Military Meg

Walk the dog
Clean the flat
Make my breakfast
You lazy brat

We’ve got things to do
People to see
Get dressed and move
Or you won’t be seeing me

She means well
Does military meg
It just comes out wrong
Not a bad egg