The sky said summer,
The bare trees disagreed;
The river agreed with the sky,
And a hazy mist said early spring,
Or maybe autumn;
But the wind and the chilly air said,
No, it’s winter, believe it.
The Saltash bus gave me the time
To write those first lines.
In the barber’s the resident cat yawns lazily
While the radio plays 'One Fine Day' by Sting;
I think back to that day when Andrea Patterson
Told me she loved me, it took me rather by surprise;
I told her that I didn’t love her, quite bluntly;
Seven-year-olds not being renowned
For their tact and diplomacy.
Funny how your thoughts wander,
But Sting had it right with One Fine Day,
Because it is, it’s coming up to Christmas,
And I have it to play with, to enjoy, to live.
Nick Spargo writes poetry, short stories and monologues. He has been published extensively and has won a number of prizes with his work. He lives in the South-West of England.