For Colin, a poem

With North-East wind,

A broad man strides,

Though hickory docks,

Down Jarrow lines.

 

The pave is gold,

Soot air picks clear.

Past Wear-side reeds,

Who up and cheer.

 

By mounts’ t’ west -

Comrades f’ t’ fixed.

Lush locks lavish

Quixotic gifts

 

With oaken will,

T’ward smoky settle.

Wi’ coal-tressed feline,

In canny fettle.

 

Maple necked,

‘neath smile, now inked.

‘Bove lowly pitches,

Sage acorns wink.

___

His step ne’er swayed,

Nor flounced, nor flittered.

It swang, like us,

Souls’ stout, not bitter.

 

Three, four times stitched,

Us gathered cast -

With charm, not needle:

Raise life’s thin glass.

 

A gentle-man, allus,

Hence, now an’ afore.

Wi’ heart the size

O’ the Roker Roar.