Across the Leam from Mill Gardens
The clock drips from the parish church.
As I cross the bridge
to Jephson Gardens
it is early February
and the pigeons remain unfed by council decree.
“Mind your head”
the entrance to the underpass reads
the only piece of graffiti left in this oh so heavenly place.
Mothers walk their babies
this as every morning in Royal Leamington Spa.
Operatives tend the grounds
to ill- afford the prices in this town so high.
“A Lady with dirty petticoats” alongside Edinburgh
once described, a fairytale town with Cinderella absent,
a beauty with a mole or two.
But, did Victoria with all her majesty foresee
that behind all the façades and the remnants of imperial glory
lingers young people robbing the well-heeled for the next hit?
Leamington, my home, that saved me a spiral downwards……
Now I rise ever mindful of the pitfalls, ever mindful of knowing my position
in the order of things.
John Yates 2014