Expectant doors in cornice trim Miter hope in architrave frames. Persistent will, opens and close To Janus’ porchlight porticoes Drafting a sanctum in the heart Built to order on Elysium’s lot.
Expectant Doors – A Poem — Suzette B’s Blog
When nothing works out
When the world seems so cruel
There’s someone to call
Copyright Francis Barker 2020
Who knows what is real
We don’t know what to believe
Faith is all we have
Copyright Francis Barker 2020
It was at the Turner Exhibition.
Hutchings was a quiet lad, for a copper;
he had a passion which no one suspected — and it got him killed.
I took the call and we all piled ’round.
There he was, wrapped up in bubble wrap,
sequestered in the store room
next to ‘Snow Storm’; not one of my favourites.
Someone had taken a scalpel to him,
a right mess he was, poor lad.
When we got to his flat there were art books all over,
though not a morsel in the fridge. Evidently Hutchings —
I shall call him George — used to feed on art.
https://what3words.com/Feed.quiet.copper
Copyright Francis Barker 2020
This year’s no excuse
Decency is eternal
Manners maketh Man
Copyright Francis Barker 2020
Ciscography 