Bordeaux Bay

Bordeaux Bay
Bordeaux Bay by Guernsey-based artist Tony Taylor

Thursday, 15 October 2015


The last vestiges of Indian Summer have vanished from the island and Guernsey is looking decidedly autumnal.
Our absence of woodland makes this an unspectacular season and a fitting prelude to the long grey winter that will shortly come creeping round the corner like an old bedraggled cat.
Time for Jane and I, warm-weather creatures that we are, to gather pullovers about us, turn on the central heating, burrow into a warm blanket of books and hibernate till spring.
Here’s a short poem to match the season.



The heating gets switched on;
sandals build nests in the boot-box;
the old straw hat sleeps, purring,
on the shelf where, overnight,
hats become cats;
jumpers sidle out
like pale young vampires in early dark.

The game’s up.

Summer’s finally cleared off somewhere else
as you always knew it would:
a false friend, 

a good lover gone bad.

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