They’ve identified our golf club

for returning to the wild

It’s to become a verdant Eden 

For every adult, dog and child

A place of natural splendour

Where no groundsmen smoke or hunker

Sheltering from the elements in the deeper fairway bunkers

No more Pringle sweaters in pink and blue and grey

No more Captain’s Prize and no more Ladies’ Day

No more midweek medals o...

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Miss Corfield, Miss Corfield, we’re destined as one

You a wood nymph, I a woodworkers son.

We both vibrate airwaves of Radio 4

You live and vivacious! I dead as a door.

With nasal enhancement and vamp-throated quirk

You take mundane news and you set it to work

Stirring old men, from straw hat to galoshes

Till backward and forth, my sawdust-blood slo...

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A sock lies still, alone and crumpled

Her husband left for partners-new

Tumbling midst myriad socky others

Occasionally coming into view.

Front-loader’s rumble whirr and hum

More versatile than Drake’s old drum.

Detergency now far outweighs

Matelot filth of far off days.

As Mr Sock has...

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