Stopham Bridge III

In Sussex there’s a bridge
Built in fourteen twenty-two
now closing on six hundred years
since its fine stones were new
It spans the river Arun
near Stopham Village where
it’s provided here a crossing
for local folk to share

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The Crossing

While hiking on a lonely trail,
My goal: another mount to scale,
And feeling rather wearisome,

The Stone Bridge

Over verdant land it flows

Lingering, malefic, is the mist

Heights

We are birds, in flight
On varying heights
Inevitable

You see clouds
I do not

Wordbridge

I built a bridge with words today
to span five thousand miles
The ‘pond’ may seem enormous
But is much smaller with a smile

Stopham Bridge

 

The White Hart’s closed at Stopham Bridge
And no-one’s serving there
We were looking forward to that pint
And some wholesome country fayre

Islands We Live In

Little did I realize

The islands we live in

Blinded by emotive lies

A rush of passion within

Desires of past, out of place

Jumping the proverbial gun

A virile ego with a trace

Assuming I was fun

Bridges

I walk along the rivers
Which sources lie between
The pale white clouds in the sky
Which ends anywhere
Its tail a snaking wisp of smoke