New Perspectives? [should Have Gone to Perspective Savers...]

This week's theme, gentle readers, strikes a [diminished] chord. The whole past twelve months have been a series of new perspectives for me since moving to Blackpool. When I arrived, I had a wife and a cat. I didn't know the beautiful hinterland [Fylde coast, Wyre, Bowland] at all. I hadn't written a poem for over thirty years [only songs for my band]. All has changed utterly in ways I could not have predicted. Enough background, play the blues.
This week’s poem is something I only completed to my satisfaction on Thursday night, although I started to write it way back in May at Sarah Hymas’ s Walking on Wyre workshop. It was one of those troublesome pieces that I needed to step away from on more than one occasion. I didn’t finish it in time for submission to the Walking on Wyre publication and it only all fell into place this week. [Okay, it was wrestled there and held for a count of three!] As a result it managed to sneak into the final Walking on Wyre Blog, posted yesterday; but I offer it here as well for anyone who doesn't follow the WoW blog; [and why not?]  I'll let it speak for itself....
STALKING STANAH SALTMARSH BLUES
Well I woke up this morning
a memory in mind, you, soft hipped and glorious, sweet kissing kind - but my reed bed was empty so lust ebbed away… oh mama, I’ve got them old saltmarsh blues today.   
I stalked you to Stanah by the widening Wyre, whose muddy shore ciphers proclaimed you a liar - all blue-eyed and blowsy left soft by the fray… oh mama, these saltmarsh blues quite blow me away.
We talked of zonation like estuarine hex lines, how time changes everything, mutating love-signs. It’s tilting at windmills, keeping sadness  at bay… oh mama, we’ve all got our saltmarsh dues to pay.   Thanks for reading. Have a good week, y'all. I'm off to bury my cat.
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