This girl - Felicity
Shimmers *** appeal
Like a plastic pink flamingo

I see her walk
early morning
Along the sands

Watching the tide
roll in and out
High heels in hand

As she waits
for darkness
and the sensuous night.

The words seemed to dance
freely within the script
So much so that it seemed difficult
to determine what pattern
they might eventually take.

Yet as I rose early
in order to watch
Coventry awake
The silence morphed into noise
and I prayed that the summer
would reveal its truth.

She wore her ***
On the Rue Vavin
Like a pink scarf
Round her naked neck

Yesterday we visited
The Zadkine's
At Montparnasse
Where students smoke and love

There her boredom
Was palpable
Though the streets
Enriched her beauty

An English rose
Walking on cobbled streets
Parisian streets
Streets of our love.

Pretty girls go by
With feral eyes
Yet none compare
To Felicity

Who sits with me
At Le Select
On the Boulevard Montparnasse
As evening falls

Felicity with whom
I made love
Last night
On the Rue Troyon

As darkness falls
We'll make love
With Paris
From atop the tower

Where a feminine city
Shines like jewels
On a sea of love
True love - ours.

I wished
that you could've seen her
As I did that morning
on Llandudno pier

Working in the arcade
A real '**** and ***'
Yet entirely in accord
with the Victorian elegance

I returned next day
but she was not there
Had the ebb tide
carried her away?

In my mind the memory
remained like the sand
Untouched by the tide
and I gave thanks for that.

I stood in view of Helvellyn
on a summer afternoon
Marvelling at the majesty
of this English landscape

As young hikers lay
amongst the ancient stones
Performing ancient rites
they thought they'd invented

I thought of the poets
of life and the world
Remembered Lovehearts words
and drank in the air.

A war memorial stands
Keeping guard at the end
Of an ancient High Street
Alone on a roundabout

From this historic spine
Of Flooring Centre and Bugdens
Run ribs of semis
With their suburban wives

I watch as my feet
Stamp down cracked pavements
Teenage schoolgirls
Giggle at a phone

At the village hall noticeboard
I read Parish Council minutes
Wondering at the secrets
Of the good who serve

Whilst against it all
The background hum
Of M3 traffic
Racing towards death.