The Colour Turquoise

– My Poems (3) Hot long days and water fights,We three young gracesPlaying chasing gamesWith the French girls in their bustiersBound firmly in place with multiple straps.Why me?Acqua.Girl guides’ blouses bursting out all over.He couldn’t be trusted with a map on the moor.And the swans swam onAs the Chelsea pensionersIn their crimson coatsOverlooked the EtonContinue reading “The Colour Turquoise”