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SENTINEL POETRY #26 Online Magazine Monthly, January 2005 |
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BEN BARTON The View I
look across this view before me Panoramic, and exquisite it stretches for miles Boundless - only for a pile
of washing up The sofa blocking my horizon. In the distance, a figure
lies sleeping I find solace in his rhythmic
breathing There is peace Ethereality breaking from a
shaft of light beaming from the bedside lamp An electric heater clicks on
full power The radio is my birdsong. Great mountains of laundry, peaks of white This landscape, so unlike any
other remains unmatched For no other that I have ever
seen has captivated me so. The green carpet stretches
beyond from room to room worn thin, haggard, patchy but still I am startled by
the essence of this beauty It is breathtaking. The Dark
Cloud of Dover Standing on a rented balcony peering down Below; a greying street Amber signs flash like marmalade The people exeunt suffocating from the rain Umbrellas scatter - a silence overtakes and we sleep. From this; the dark cloud of
Dover. The smell of fish 'n chips a taste of kebab the ice on my fingertips and the space in my heart is filled by the downpour released From the dark cloud of Dover. The stress and toil my existence here Lines on my face stretch for blocks and
boroughs further than the dole queue and we are all soaked but still we stand United. Drenched; we face the
blistering rain and I bow my head, my mark of
respect for this; the dark cloud of
Dover. |