Photo By Jools Thatcher

Photo By Jools Thatcher

We’re back, today was the firstJVG Radio Method for 2012. As an opening theme for the year Jon plucked “ Bay ” out of the air.

I liked this one, memories of past summers as a kid. It wasn’t to hard to cast the mind back and come up with the poem for this week.

Somehow I am sure that the road is going to get a little bumpier as we progress through the year. We are off to a good start though I had the pleasure of Ed Bates on backing guitar sounds for this one.

Hope you all had a great break, here we go again.

To play this poem directly in your browser – just click the “play” button below:
[audio:JVG_Poem20120205.mp3]

Also have a listen to the tracks on the new EP “Once We Were Kings Of The World


Bays

I suppose, at a pinch, it could be classified a boat
The fact it reached the beach at all, proved that it could float

Beautifully constructed, not bothered by the swell
Not quite ocean going; Still it handled waves quite well

The deck, varnished oak, the hull, a Prussian blue
High above the bow, embossed, the number two six two

A little hard to steer without a rudder or a wheel
Stability was iffy, but then it didn’t have a keel

It was, by all accounts, a superbly fashioned craft
While they christened it a ship it was closer to a raft

But to those who strode its deck it was a pirate ship and more
Though in truth, it should be said, it was technically – a door

To parents, just more rubbish washed up in Half Moon Bay
But their kids, minds less jaded, saw potential straight away

Like flies around a carcass they descended on their prize
Excitement in their laughter, adventure in their eyes

They sailed that piece of flotsam, beyond both wind and tide
To the edge of their imaginings, inventiveness their guide

It graced the beach all summer to the local kid’s delight
Until the first weekend in March when it vanished overnight

Maybe carried on the current; perhaps half way cross the earth
Or scrapped by those who could not see its beauty or its worth

Things get cast aside; objects, people, dreams
Not all is as we see it; Not all is as it seems

Joy can lie in simple things; This world can bluff you blind
That’s the thing with doors, you never know what lies behind

© Copyright 2012 Ian Bland

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