For Penny Abraham

I wish I had Auden’s penchant

For going about in carpet slippers

Or the late HRH Margaret’s panache-

A chauffered Rolls with six outriders-

This late December day with its sparkle of sun on frost

I’d so much rather be in Haworth’s cobbled street

With cascades of carols in torchlit procession

Or still better with a passionate friend to make love to

By Penistone Crags and then sit in post-coital bliss

In the tea-room, reading Claudel in whispers,

And not as I was, heading for Camden’s

December Trust Board Meeting, of which I’m not a member

But a regular attender, watching the watchers

At a comfortable distance, hoping to hear democracy’s arrthymia.

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