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Poem	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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