Tuesday 17th May 2020






  River Tavy Blues


Lost our way along the River Tavy,

Not so far from the Tamar

Wandered along a public path,

Under a glade in Bere Ferrers,


Trusted the tide and a withering aside:

'Left my husband for that walk along the Tavy'


Father stood on one edge of the bank

Stepped nimbly and painstakingly

Oer a stile.


Pondered a skull in the fringe of a bridleway,

Two pheasants picked clean by a hawk?



On a cleft overlooking Hamoaze

Cremyll Ferry pinched off another load.


A scruffy farmer let us alone in field,

It were cool as a nit on a leaf,

And the railway cistern was full of turds

Pot read: 15p for runner beans


What is the breaking point for polite folk?

Does God feel the same rage as us?

What is left of good intentions

On the lanes/rail lines along the banks of River Tavy?



John Stiles



United Kingdom

Copyright 2009 EASTBEAT. All rights reserved.

Web Hosting by Yahoo!

United Kingdom