Our Man in Europe, dave Delacroix.....Barry Island.
THERE was once an old Woman from SWANSEA, a Sailor-s Song, or ANACREON or the Devil, UNCLE NICK who sucked your dreams asleep, ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ . And then curdled your Concept, until the TIP of your NON-Smoking irritation, knickers, petticoats....
THERE WAS once a Venom of ISIS, UN-curled, a Tongue. It-s in YOUR MOUTH, a POISON!
SPIT! Let it go South. Or SING IN ANACREON in Heaven! we sing our song to thee! in this bitter conception OF OUR DAY, what was ONCE!
THERE was once an Ol Gal from Cardiff,....beats ME ...whilst they R always WELSH,
LONGSHANKS, maybe, HENRY -3 ...beating UP VECCHIO-BRITS, poet Dylan Thomas or singers, Shirley Bassey or Tom Jones, ARTISTS!...whilst Kings of England or...PWOOF!... Princes of Wales.... and all the tales of Royalty, a tapestry of SOMEBODY-s Boog-ga-loo ...Citadels to Castles to RUINS....now absorbed in a Poet-s song...
When I was 12 and my gal was 13, I, from Yorkshire, she came from Cross Keys in a Welsh Mining Valley. I wore my Swimming Trunks, SHE wore some full tummy swimming gizmo. We sat on the beach in South Wales, Barry Island, watched ships sail up and down the Bristol channel ....and never had a thought for Evermore.
c2019,feb,sciacca-sicily.dave Delacroix, Lord Borgo.
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