Hot water bottles, duvets, dope, Glenlivet,
cups of sweet tea, pasta, English puddings,
protest or prayer, smartphones or Christmas stockings,
Harleys or Bromptons, the sea at night, moonlit;
success, red boxes, all the kicks of power,
opera, ballet, books, Hockney, Vermeer,
the birds of Oxfordshire and Gloucestershire,
Hendrixís cover of All Along the Watchtower;
gardening, crosswords, chess, the Queen, the Pope,
Casablanca, Some Like it Hot, Zulu,
Radio 4, or friendship, children, hope,
and even, if Iím really honest, you Ė
donít fool, deep down inside, or help to cope:
nothing which comforts can in the end be true.
If you have any thoughts on this poem, Tom
Vaughan would be pleased to hear them.