Image for the poem Messages On Desks.....

Messages On Desks.....

But the hills are alive:
All day you
Could see them
If only
You could look,
You see
And scuff marks,
Blocked drains, rain
And vomit.
But the hills
Are alive!

What with?
Whatever sound they have
Is hard to hear – there’s a field
Of force
This side
Of the river.
It’s made of bungalows
And little shops,
Of milk floats
And morning drops,
Of forever yesterday.

Scaling chalk hills
Crumbling crescendo of youth –
In oceanic octaves
We search breaking waves
Rolling outside the sea.

But the hills are alive!
I would
Sing their names
Down the valley,
A mantra
To make all
Come true –
But I can’t.

The hills are alive.
I scratch your name
On golden boughs.

Pic. Web. Visual designed by Uma. xx

Written by Strangeways_Rob
Author's Note
# Umanoid. Covid is triggering myriad of remembrance. Looking forward to the future - when all's well. STAY SAFE ALL.
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