Some said Martin be wild
with his unruly red hair
his deep, penetrative glare
To be fair
I would agree
Martin possessed
that certain degree
of flair
which would not be there
without the unruly red hair
without the penetrative glare
And, maybe you think
he had not one single care
in this life
He certainly did not easily scare
as far as I be aware
Dressed like a dandy
heavy overcoat
an extravagant scarf
Made me laugh
made me laugh to myself
I shouldn’t
He takes himself too seriously
I say to myself
just the same as I used to too
Far far too seriously
‘Well, Martin!’
I say with a gasp
‘What are you going to do
on this wonderful day today?
Will you write some verse?
Sit quietly and observe?
Make things all good?
Have you ever thought of a hat?
You should get yourself a hat
come with me.’
A great big floppy hat
I take him with me
to a milliner in town
There upstairs
in a half-empty room
we play with the mirrors
posing together
making live photos
left un-captured
We are wild and we are unruly
Brinkinfield 