Welcome reader
Take my hand to walk
the road of lonely footsteps
Arrow straight to vague horizons
~
Deep throated plough furrows
Slice open tablecloth fields
Scar the marsh wet earth with
lines of black symmetry
~
The Fenland village
Church and homestead
Huddled close for comfort
Under dark despairing skies
~
Tarred huts along the foreshore
Lobster boilers, bubble and steam
Agony claws wave in torment
Fading cries of cooking flesh
~
Fabled Fenland calls me home
To flat fields and misty mornings
Where undiscovered beauty
Can sooth the wanderer’s heart