Poached oysters.

Poached oysters once belonged to those 

nervous of wading into photos of loving 

couplets missing the coast and there 

Anchor Grey Feline coated hounds stretching

lost to the fading lights of weather nets 

hung cutlets of the art of seaweed reading 

Dabling in new languid conversation.

where hop farmers brewed Ales and grew daffodils 

That were refilled with a message for

Reused milk bottles dregging fears for 

Utopian city’s and upcoming European stars 

to make a Instrument to maypole round 

the Oldest Crowns Second hand hats 

that you lead on merry dance 

to the horse racers as unpredictable 

as milliner that turns grain into three wings

bridging a battle considered over at the 

Wickets turned with hazel passed each 

Spring with wild and jarred Apple jacks 

Rolled on rye grass.