Tengo

I have dived on the broken wreck of the Volnay

    Mindful of the explosive still in the shells
I have explored dark sumps under the Mendip Hills
    Holding my breath and the rope equally tight
I have eaten succulent crawfish and scallops
    Taken fresh from the Cornish sea
I have walked on crunchy Scottish sastrugi
    Feeling on top of the world
I have paddled down the rocky Ardeche
    In the midday sun and sudden thunderstorms
I have been becalmed off the Isle of Man
    Hearing coasters rumble into the night
I have ridden my motorbike with the Hastings boys
    Roaring down the Seven Mile Lane
I have searched for mushrooms out on the marsh
    Listening to pewits call overhead
I have eaten paella on the Spanish border
    And supped Rioja warm from the glass
I have jumped from the wing of a tiny plane
    And felt the lines run out of the pack
I have banged a gong on the Chinese hill
    On New Year’s Day in Suzhou
I have loved in the heat of a summer night
    And thought that she was the only one
I have drunk anis dulce in Matienzo bars
    With bottle tops embedded in mud floors
I have fought till the blood ran from my nose
    And wished I had not been so rash
I have landed big pike from the River Rother
    Careful of their long, vicious teeth
I have laughed with my family sat round the table
    Sharing the Christmas fare
I have toiled till my back ached and fingers bled
    Picking potatoes in the sun-baked field
I have caught flapping chicken in the smelly shed
    Sweating in the summer heat
I have sat in the snow with numbing brain
    On the remote Yorkshire moor
I have abseiled down shafts in Derbyshire mines
    Thankful that the rope was strong
I have climbed the cliffs of the Avon Gorge
    And dropped my heels to stop the shake
I have rejoiced at the birth of daughters three
    Listened to the owl’s hoot in the morning
I have fished for mackerel on Dungeness beach
    Watching super tankers glide up the Channel
I have eaten cherries in the Kentish Weald
    Swilling home brewed wine from bottle
I have smoked Ducados on the limestone hill
    And watched the smoke drift away on the breeze
I have kayaked in waves off Flamborough Head
    Battling clapotis and foam under the cliffs
I have lit fires on the Irish shore
    And drunk Guinness cool from the gun
I have marvelled at sparkling stal bosses
    And delicate straws in Belgium caves
I have been benighted on Heather Terrace
    Shivering in that icy Tryfan gully
I have watched barges on the River Rhine
    Carry their cargoes under Cologne’s bridges
I have eaten kebabs from the Yugoslavian spit
    Watching oxen carts work the fields
I have slept in a Swiss barn during the autumn
    Woken by cow bells tinkling in the morning
I have played chess on the boat to Crete
    Surrounded by travellers, chickens and goats
I have tasted pizza in the restaurants of Venice
    And taken the boat out to Murano and Burano
I have mourned the deaths of both family and friends
    Spoken last farewells and saddened words
I have lived as well as any king or emperor
    Who ate wild boar at the royal feast.

Martin Delemare
15^th December 2010