Had it not been for the bellicose
gargantuan hoof of circumstance
tramping upon time twixt the
dyad of cataclysmic wars then in
Never Never Land the lovely
granddaughter she would never have
would be a Goth, piercings, tattoos and all
headphones tuned into Metallica’s metal

Aside the banks of The Rhine the
glamour of the outdoors lost on him
a onetime lance corporal the
Academy rejected methodically
paints in watercolours the symmetry of
architectural structures on the opposite bank

An ‘expunge the nix Teuton’ hypochondriac
bitter sweet ‘thus far dreamer’ of unspeakable
deeds ahead and odious days he shall father
ensures foul play is not just confined to the playing field

For now though he who would liquidate free spirit settles into his work

A chocolate box Bohemian girl of the left’s left
twiddling the reddest parasol under a fiery sun
Zelpha confiscated butterfly nets and fed stale
pumpernickel to the impetuous quacking ducks
‘live and let live’ her mantra

Fate had it that she stumbled upon the ‘artist’

“Flora and fauna not your thing then?”

“Not really young lady”

“But look…above the skyline…a skein of geese…you could draw those”

“They bore me”

“Surreal art then?”

“Anyone who sees and paints a sky green and fields blue ought to be sterilized”

“That’s hardly a very nice thing to say…I rather like the thought of blue fields”

A decade or more on and in full bloom
Zelpha will never again tread the great
river’s hit and miss towpath, watch the
day go by or think great kindly thoughts
for now she is a victim of he who once said

“I do not see why man should not be as cruel as nature”

She of pedigree purer than her creed’s bête noire
She an egalitarian worth six million of him, eradicated



    1. Did you people watch…bet you did for it is the finest thing when sat outside a café? I am off to The Ardennes at the end of next week – now that I’ve binned the walking stick at last and just done my first 12k (boast) since being found at the bottom of the stairs (she now tells me she covered me in a sheet in case the ambulance had to be called thus protecting my modesty…a bloody sheet!) – and people watching is what I shall do…well that and smoke French cigarettes and offer my soul to caffeine!

  1. Ah, may the hoof of circumstance never tread on you…though I’m likely to think of a goth girl as listening to The Cure, who am I to stereotype when blue fields and green skies can even be a delight to some.
    Also must say love the pic of you and Shirl at the…er, um, great food rations of Communist Russia…no…protest on the Russian government…no Czechoslovakia then? Either way, certain I saw you there.

    1. Awful Adolf did actually say that line about blue fields by the way! As to Inchy’s little masterpiece I must confess to not knowing the land the folk behind come from save that they are surely good old socialists like me! Well done Inchy Sir!

      1. That is a shame considering his ability to speak in some unidentified European language and then rhyme in nonstop British verse while simultaneously wagging his pinkie. Was he a Paul fanatic then?

      2. Mr Drury spoke in an East London/Essex accent; wrote fabulous lyrics…The Blockheads (still performing) are truly amazing musicians when let loose. Not sure if he and Paul would have got on that well though!

    1. Thank you Jessie Martinovic. ‘Innit’! I am rather taken with ‘Innit’ – a good old multicultural word of many uses and variants – swear words are like that yet ‘innit’ works better and doesn’t offend.

      1. Here in Blighty ‘innit’ is popular among white teenagers trying to imitate their Asian counterparts. The effect is rather like a new language with a semi Asian accent and a bundle of ‘innits’ – indeed ‘innits’ are thrown in to every sentence uttered (bit like the F word is used by some). Purists re the English language hate it yet I see it as almost an odd art form – there you have it ‘The UK History of Innits’!

      2. Ah ok I see. Thank you for your informative reply. I to gain information most from others tellings, so I am greatful for your input into this brain sphere.

    1. Cheers…drinking decent coffee that is not (as it is in the UK) served up gluttonous Costa oil drums is a pleasure indeed…not that Costa or indeed any franchise serves ‘decent’ coffee!

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