The Hope
Wandsworth Common
On Wandsworth Common God and I
talked till in the evening shade
He shone like an Anglepoise.
Then I prayed:
help me to make it to the top
and a pad north of the river;
sync my mind to contemplate
success, and not shiver;
shape me a soul as rounded as
the Circle Line, when in the week
I go down into darkness at
South Kensington or Baker Street;
grant me a wife and let’s say two
offspring, one a son;
smooth Time into a tranquil lake
for me to walk upon;
bless us as we safely ski
each Christmas in the Alps,
and may our summer holidays
to bliss be catapults;
and when, years later, I take stock,
in Chelsea or in Camden
permit me one small moment of
limited abandon –
to head back here and meet you for
a session in The Hope,
all drinks on me, that my life’s been
such a rich kaleidoscope.
