Andy Thompson's Page

From a window on a train I look for sheep and cows
seeing only buildings, cars - as round-about I browse.
The gentle rocking of the train sends my thoughts away...
away from all the meetings that would take up all my day.
People feeding back to me; agendas still to write.
I know this long hard day will soon become a long hard night
No green; no sky; no pleasant breeze; just buildings, people, cars
hustle bustle, noise and smell, the shops, the factories and bars
Roll-on later - the end of the da… Continue

An invisible
force turns tides. Moured boats bow to
the power of the moon.

Andy Thompson

...pull at a thread and
sometimes life unravels -
or becomes clearer!

So much crap in one day!
how can so many things go wrong
even before you have arrived at work?
why does toast laden with cheap supermarket jam
fall jam side down on an all ready messy kitchen floor
toast which was burnt only 5 minutes before, five
minutes I don’t have as I have to be somewhere else
and I had to waste it scrapping black bits of burnt toast into
the sink because the toaster burnt my bread
only - I never noticed that the scrapings missed the sink
and deposited themselves on last ni… Continue

Halwill Junction's now a sleepy village
after all of history's rape and pillage.
Like fingers spread across a nation
the railways created a country station.

The railways prospered and a village grew
around this country station new.
Halwill became a busy junction
the railways still its only function.

The villagers found their country station
connected to a growing nation.
Without those trains the sun would set
and surely a nation would forget!

When came the day of Beechings axe
and men with pi… Continue

Mr Whitely,
holding tightly...
sighed.
Then puzzled slightly
breathing lightly...
died.

Mrs Whitely -
though fit and sprightly...
retired.
Not as brightly
later; politely...
enquired.

The doctor - rightly,
treading lightly...
explained,
"twice nightly"
the cause most likely; remained.
At ninety-two, with looks, unsightly
most of us refrain - quite rightly!

At cafe tables 'neath wind-swept gables
I gazing at you through glazing
sheltered warm from January storm
(the waves crashing; lightening flashing)
warm with tea; but you without me,
separated by class; and two sheets of glass
you turn and are gone
and the storm rumbles on!

Jan 1998

That beer is drunk!
True she lied,
the sky is blue
and so is your mouth!
If a newspaper's read -
what colour is blood she asked.
Black is white; and white black -
prove me wrong, she argued!

I looked into a mirror
and it told me an untruth...
true!


Sept. 1996

She stood in the sun -
appealing
hosing down the yellowing lawn
in the rain
with dry white wine
so as not to waste water
which ran off the roof
collecting in a water butt
it had a hole in it and so it ran away -
down the garden path.

May 1996

Re faced cliffs rise and fall,
small sea-side town nestles deep between folds.
Line of beach-huts denotes beaches edge -
boats seeking shelter
huddle; high upon sweeping pebble bank.

A distant figure throws stones at a waiting sea.

April 1997