THE MEET.                          
Tumble down ‘n’ tumble in,
Building’s gaze,
Like a Watchman watches,
Silent are his whispers,
Midst the gathering gloom,
Through twitching Panes,
As  skies turn grey,
And dripping wet,
At the gathering mealy,
That is The Meet,
Of  Hounds ’n’ Horses,
                        Yelping,   
 
Passing their Cup,
A warming,
Cup,
Blood red,
Did it drip,
And eager for the off,
 
Scarlet ‘n’ Blooded was his Coat,
Top his old grey Mare,
That stamped her foot,
When Bugle blown,
The Chase,
Was on,
Leaving those,
To stand ‘n’ stare,
And Sup their beer,
 
Then the Deer broke cover,
At galloping pace,
Just as our shot rang out,
Loud across the Valley,
Dripping wet ‘n’ deathly grey,
                                   Yelping.   

(New Years Day, Stratton  2016.)