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The Good Clean Air of Hampshire

October 23, 2015

i

That’s my clothes hanging out on the line

In the good morning air of Hampshire!

In the cold, damp air of a grey So’ton morn.

Too early for me, but good to see my clothes at least

Get the benefit of the cold, crisp, misty Hampshire air

Knowing that soon the sun will warm and dry

The things I shall wear, along with the air,

The good, clean air of Hampshire!

ii

So, the clothes on the line are happy as ever they shall be,

Dancing freely, in the breezy air of Hampshire!

Happy in their perfect moment (as Robert Browning would say).

And then what? Iron out the jolly wrinkles they’ve been given

By the brisk, brisk, moist air of Hampshire?

So I can wear them to rags with the sweat of my labour

While others strut in their latest duds

In love with the good, healthy air of Hampshire!

iii

Now my line is empty and slack, sad and swinging wildly

At the mercy once again, of the gusts in the air of Hampshire!

But it won’t break or go to waste, this old skipping rope; it’s the only line I have

Where precious things might hang on display proudly

To dry and salute, for all to see, or just for me, and the good air of Hampshire!

What sign can I put on show to add weight to my line?

Some old flag? Dead game? This puppy? That child?

Who wants to swing, in the good clean air of Hampshire!

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From → Poet

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