Cricklewood not Hollywood

Look out the window 

Angel spangled lamppost 

In cricklewood 

Don’t laugh the dog flats 

Echo with mirth 

Wash the sky with windowlene

Soap sud fluffy clouds 

It’s good to while

The breeze along 

You caterpillars 

You pillows 

You hairline fractures 

In the temple 

Of wasps 

Look out look out 

They’re kilting themselves 

In mud 

The graceless ruckers 

Pelting hail invective 

My dog collar
my amulet 

Heaven is a library 

Rivulets frame the glass 

Real life is Cricklewood (said Eric) 

You don’t need a press pass

To read the apple blossom

Swan dive conkers shine 

Bluebell woods glow dank 

Lace the sprigs of nectar 

Along the railway bank.

18/5/20

"Real life is Cricklewood not Hollywood"   

(Eric Morecambe to Liberace)