A poem from Gillian English

Gently falling barometer of life

Rising air masses mirror inversely our declining years

No nimbus to puncture the stratus of low ceilinged routine, to highlight a victory or celebration,

Tramwayed direction locked to a stagnant path, with ambition as vagarious as monsoon rains,

All in all

Stating the blindingly obvious

and there’s more

Dhoby wallah, how I love you dhobi wallah.

Battered keks and dirty trousers,

All come back

Smelling of flowers

About allatsea

Sixty year old master-mariner. Absolutely gorgeous. Well wedged.....when compared to a Nairobi street urchin. Sorted, in that I haven't been in court recently. Hopelessly optimistic, terminally disappointed. Good with cats and other fluffy things. No musical talent. Generous to a fault provided it's someone else's round. Political centreist with far right and left viewpoints. A green activist from the hydrocarbon position with nuclear leanings. Averse to avarice but always happy to receive lottery wins, gifts, windfalls, legacies, prizes and wet sloppy kisses.
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