That autumnal expedition to Brimscombe Seems all a bit too good to be true: Cycling past that spring alongside Bagpath, Where an old Rodborough resident Once slaked his thirst descending to Brimscombe, Where he played football on a Saturday, And where he slaked his thirst again, When ascending at the end of the match (A […]

It was all so just so Just William perfect: Egg sandwiches, crisps and lemonade Tucked into your duffel bag, Together with autograph book, green, red and black biros, And Ian Allan trainspotter books (Western Region and Locoshed), And off I went in the early morning, Walking to the ‘Iron Bridge’ To collect train numbers from […]

Now I’m not sure if there’s a debate here About determinism and free will, Or whether there’s just some sort of reflection On 60 years spent going to the match, That LS Lowry feeling of being lost in a crowd, That loss of sense of self that meant strangers were friends And friends were never […]

I felt as though I were in a poem: ‘Afternoons’ by Philip Larkin – I was off to sheltered accommodation To see my mother-in-law (91), Wishing a ‘Good afternoon’ to residents Out for their slow afternoon constitutional; Then out for a walk to Clifton Downs, Crossing endless empty football pitches, Sitting on the occasional bench […]

The day started well enough: a walk to town In the soft light of soft autumnal sunshine, Ridge and furrow with kine in the fields; Drunken Swindon fans trying to walk straight, Whilst Lord John bantering with the Old Bill; Stroud’s farmers’ market full of season harvest, Sundry chats about the match with passers-by. But […]