Greg Freeman Poems

Colonised, old railway tracks and pits.
Spread of creeping thistle and bracken.
Limestone grasslands, brimstone broods;
fritillaries, clouded yellows.
...

The clock shows different times on its two faces,
both wrong. We arrive early,
work out the ticket machine
and validator, settle down to wait
...

I hope these help to keep you safe.
Are you lonely at the front?
You have your pals, along the trenches.
And we have ours, inside the factory.
...

It was that time of year; there would be daffodils
at home, beside hedges, glowing in the rain.
Labouring in the cutting, he saw them dancing.
A poem they had been schooled to learn by heart.
...

BBC trying to get with the Sixties.
After it was played
compere David Jacobs
repeated the title in his
...