Will Vigar

A Writer of Sorts

Three Aromatic Poems

sense-of-smell

 

Coffee

 

Sing me dark songs with

A voice of ash and heaven

Wake me from slumber

 

 

Petrichor

 

Unknown civilisations

centuries dead; their last remnants

lie trapped in flagstone and asphalt.

Wakened by welcome summer rain

we breathe the dust of empires.

 

 

Davy’s of Dover

Tottering on the stub and clack

My Mum, replete in navy slacks,

ushers us to Davy’s van

to buy us fish and chips.

 

The salt and fat and ketchup packs    

The chips; the scraps; the batter cracks.

There’s pickled eggs in acid vats,

They’ll never pass my lips!

 

We sit among the bladderwrack

and feast on grease and haddock that’s

a thruppence ha’penny heart attack

by any other name.

 

As fragile Kentish weather snaps

we turn our backs on tourist traps.

Acetic vapors call us back

To Davy’s Van-On-Sea.

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Information

This entry was posted on September 29, 2016 by in Poem, poem of the day, Poetry, Will Vigar and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , .
%d bloggers like this: