Hold my hands up and as Sawyer expects
Missed today so I write in retrospect
You’ll still get a poem and thoughts from me
All that happened was work then a Woking coffee
So allow me to take you on a little tour
Some words from my mind, written before
‘I turned off my music to listen to life
To hear complaints from husband to wife
Discussions on politics and sport
Dry sense of humour, the English sort
How the leaders we trust are full of sin
Turn pod back on and place earphones in
Everything is better when put to music
Bus stop arguments seem somehow poetic
What started off as a dull walk in the park
Becomes a choreographed fight between jets and sharks
Drum beat moves you to your own pace
A pneumatic drill becomes a stringed double bass
Words ring more true and tell a story
Orchestrating a drunk man and his former glory
Music takes you to where you want to be
A packed club at night or alone on a boat at sea
But walking around Woking with all its palaver
Is helped by local maestro, Weller the Mod-father’
No comments:
Post a Comment