Copyright © 2005 Martin Newell Pepys 0.1 Blogware © Steve Dix
St Leonard's Bees
Here, in the niche
Where the clock dial was
Beside the porch, the bees fly in
And taxi out in autumn sun
As if acknowledging as one
The Master's work was never done
And on this morning of them all
The church is open and the bells
Ring carillons of older lives
Reverberating through the wall
To one of England's oldest hives
Plague had made the churchyard fat
Musket balls had scarred the door
Rain had scoured the stonework thin
Gushing from a gargoyle's grin
High up on the oblong tower
While St Leonard's bees poured in
Mediaeval wheels had come
Rumbled up the rutted hill
Parliament had banged its drum
Cromwell's men had done God's will
Farther down, along the river
Sailing ships moored side-by-side
Creaked and listed in the channel
Trapped like lovers by the tide
While the distant City burned
Till St. Leonard's bees returned
Heard the clang of anvil, hammer
And the early engines stammer
Shared the air with Zeppelin
Still the bees came sailing in
Mariner and fisherman
Soldier, clerk and engineer
Christened, married, buried here
Knew this church, these bells
these bees.
Lived and died in days like these
On this morning of all mornings
Now the old satsuma sun
Lifts its head in mid-September
While there's nectar in the cup
And the church is opened up
Still, they come, St Leonard's bees
Drifting in on days like these.
Spring and Port Lane
Let me see you home again
In the hat-pins of the rain
Timber Hill and Parsons Lane
Up Hythe Hill in heartbeats
This romance conducted here
After chips and pints of beer
Till we overcome our fear
Up the road to Jan & Phil's
Major cures for minor ills
I will bring your headache pills
In the traffic of the day
Greenstead Road to Lightship Way
Can I stop the cars to say
We are now an item?
Like two cygnets in the sedge
Moorhens on the water's edge
All along these banks I pledge
Love ad infinitum
Ernie Doe's to B&Qs
Hammered out in four-be-twos
Tell the whole wide world the news
I will still adore you
Till the lorries cease to rumble
Till the sales run out of jumble
Till the Uni towers crumble
I will tumble 4 U
Up Hythe Hill and home again
Past the rainbow on Port Lane
Hung there like a petrol stain
Walk with ghosts of engineers
Fishermen and cavaliers
Through the cavalcade of years
Up Hythe Hill in soaking jeans
Wind in trees, like tambourines
Only we know what this means
Up Hythe Hill in heartbeats.
The Morning Train
The Hythe has had a shower today
Sluiced the weary night away
The platform, wet from recent rain
Is standing for the London train
In sight of automatic gates
The backbone of the nation waits
The clouds are hanging out to dry
For soon the sun will scale the sky
With gelled-up hair, the younger chaps
And too much aftershave, perhaps
In crumpled jackets, scruffy shoes
Go late to jobs, they'd hate to lose
Yawning then, they find a place
To hide themselves in cyber-space
Sequestered in a comfort zone
Of laptop, i-pod, mobile phone
Somewhere near to Seven Kings
A salesgirl thinks engagement rings
Drains her polystyrene cup
And then, reluctantly, moves up
Recalling waterfront estates
In seats not made for vertebrates
For in the hour or so it takes
The backbone of the nation aches.
Swan Fleet In Winter
White on blue, on white, on blue
The swan fleet winters on the Colne
When the sky is full of snow
And the yellow clouds hang low
Over woods at Wivenhoe.
Cotton-swabs to wipe the make-up
From December's streaky face.
On the river rolling slowly
Through the cold rose afternoon
Feather galleons of the moon.
High above them, gulls manoeuvre
Silver seaplanes headed east.
Far below, a flagship's waiting
Twilight on its icy prow
Captain Frost's expected now.
Stalking, silent, through the coalyard
Stooping cranes and frozen ships
Tapioca dock and warehouse
Haunted, now the men are home
And the mud is dirty chrome.
Here the night squats on the water
And the moonlight's on the snow
While the swan fleet sits at anchor
By the corrugated ridges
Of the quay and concrete bridges.
Where the reeds are bent or broken
And the splintered pallets float
In among the ebbing eddies
Bobbing by the wooden jetty
Glistening with cold confetti.
Marmalade Emma and Teddy Grimes
She had an eye for a fancy hat
Flouncy dresses, bohemian tat
Deep in her jacket she kept a cat
Marmalade Emma adored
Roses, ribbons and ostrich feather
Crowned her head in summer weather
Grimes and she fell in together
They were in accord
Their overcoats were old and frayed
Begging and blagging, the life they made
She had a passion for marmalade
Carried a brolly or stick
Grimes had hair that was matted, grey
Three gold earrings on display
The cap and coat of an emigré
Maybe a bolshevik
The Duke and Duchess of Dispute
Everyone knew who they were
She was devoted to him, though
And he was devoted to her
Slept where they fell, by the roadside
Or kipped on a barge by the Colne
But barring arrests, or hospital tests
Neither would sleep on their own.
Smoked her pipe where she made camp
Marmalade Emma, poor old tramp
Too many years in the cold and damp
Chest pains were her bounty
Hacking up in the hospital bed
Wouldn't part with the cat, she said
Sister locked it up in a shed
Behind the Essex County
Not much more than petty crimes
What they did in such harsh times
People didn't mind them
After his death was certified
Old Colne barge was where she died
She was buried by his side
Troubles long behind them.
Fruit Schooner
Fluttering flag of mad King George
Cargo of lemons from the far Azores
Back to the glad green English shores
Chased by the high white clouds
Home in an Essex schooner
Couple of weeks or sooner
Lemons wrapped in a corn-cob shell
Packed and loaded in São Miguel
Ship on the North Atlantic swell
Fleeter than any at sea
Home in a fast fruit schooner
Home to the Hythe and home betimes
Back from the Indies with boxes of limes
Westerly, carry St Leonard's chimes
Into the cold blue sky
Cinnamon, clove and mace
Pushed by the trade winds' grace
Up Back Lane with a parakeet,
Rum for the cook and spice for the meat
Christmas oranges light the street
Kissed by the waning sun
Home in an English schooner.