Could have been a perfect day.

 
I took a late usual breakfast,
wondered where to go,
what do you know?
that if only love would last;
going to an art space,
that defied the picture of our race,
opened doors in my mind,
gentle loving and kind.
 
I went to the view over the city,
such gentle pity,
the time at last was leaving behind the fall,
hearing Christmas call
and a man walking the dog,
in the Lickey hills,
gone all care,
into the frosty air.
 
I left home as a grumpy old man
and became a young boy again;
new flats are being sold for 30 million quid in the capital,
old ladies fear the deathly cold of winter.
 
~