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.