Overcast Eclipse

A blazing sickle of the sun cut a toothless smile unseen by rushing city men caught up in the Mile. Thick cloud across the southern skies obscured the time majestic when darkness peaked – nine thirty-five: a normal day of business. 21/3/15 — This poem was inspired by the solar eclipse mania of last week

St Paul’s Church, Covent Garden

Cold fingers, the volunteer gardeners rake leaves from the flowerbeds that circle tree-trunks. A last green and white hydrangea stares its bath-cap head at me. Cars hoot near Bedford St. There’s a helicopter overhead. Leaves and Tesco receipts blow across the square paving-stones. It’s 1 minute to 10. A cold breeze catches the morning. —

On the way to Westminster

A blast! A work of genius! Was the killer whale that hit sharp at Leicester Square. It swam in from Morden via Bank trawling on the High Street with all the hours in the world provide daffodils at 80p/bunch and such sensational warming relief. 6/6/2013 — A poem for you on this sunny Thursday morning.