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0Breakfast at Pippins.
So much comes into view
Behind the glass - is nothing new?
A king beside a pope has
Tears starting from their dewy rims
Poor Charles, over everything.
The day was grim, yet sparkles
Came none the less, as I ate
My sausage, bacon and fried bread
And into Pippins came a friend,
I was glad to see a friendly face, amen.
And bit by bit we shall see grapes
Clamber up the sprouting vines -
And all the old ladies doing fine
Right there, where the buses park
Another load before it’s dark.
The bus I took went the long
Way round, but for my sins I didn’t
Give a damn, to Shurdington
And Brockworth out way yonder
A day rider at the back
Another quiet, navy, quilted anorak.
But in some small way it was
A victory, to sit upon the vinyl
Seat clutching my bag, my keys
my phone, 8 miles from
my temporary home.
A grotty hotel, not fit for man
nor beast, but I shall not tarry
Have no fear! For though these
days pinch and press, the holy spirit
holds me in his loveliness.
And though the wars go on
No one can steal Christ’s
Love away, and remember
We are put on earth just four
Score years and ten.
And then we fall asleep
To dream, the long unfolding
Hyper-scene where joyfulness
Never sleeps, no more tears
For what has been, for death
Is life, with a brighter, better sheen.
23/10/2025.
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