Preston Mill

Breakfasting outside in the sun
Reading of happenings in foreign lands.

Tootling down the highway to East Linton
A hamlet hugging the banks of the Tyne,
Red pantiled roofs and sandstone cottages

A village garden centre, sleepy in the sunshine,
Tucked up a meandering driveway through fields of sheep.
And boasting a conservatory for lunch.

And afterwards, a visit to Preston Mill,
Peaceful in a lush meadow beside a burn,
The swans missing from the millpond.

The sound of rushing water, but the big wheel
Stilled for fifty years.

Home in the sunshine
The boffins have it wrong again.