the east fen plains where wanders my lonely heart .. .
… … …
The exhalation of a longish dream where I am happy
where greylag geese arrive each day honking
where each night the sun settles on the East Kirby hills
and there is always the sound of working tractors ploughing
the east fen plains where wanders my lonely heart
I scribble words in a blank notebook with a blunted pencil