A drive of affluent gravel
Off a side road in Old Cheshire.
Evening: the sky trifled blue and grey.
The house, milk pebble-dashed and happy;
The smile, welcoming attentive.
Through a postern door we walk
Past a squad of trainers on parade and other sporting kit,
Past the bathroom (with Jo Malone in residence)
To the terrace and its un-manicured and lived on stones.
I contemplate the birdsong, and the ghosts of jets
Note the swimming pool’s ectoplasmic jelly
And beyond, the trees of darker greens and one of purple,
The colour of Malbec , the house-red
I sip in mindfulness.