Writer’s Block

I went down to the river 
To write you a letter 
Put the pen to the paper
But no words would appear 
Nothing left to discover 
Nothing more to uncover
Unfinished sentence 
Replaced by another 

And even if—
The ink started to flow
What is it that 
I would want you to know
Things are a little different 
To when I last saw you 
The weather’s cooler in England 
And I am looking older 

London holds on
To her last autumn breath
Before tumbling quickly
To her wintery depths
Hyde park is losing
All of her leaves 
Notting Hill doesn’t feel
Quite the same in this breeze 

I still like to write in
This one little place 
Where the people walk by
And the coffee smells great 
Like that you would find
Back on old Flinders Lane 
The snobbery and hostility 
Still tastes the same

I miss you my friend
It has been a while 
I hope that you know 
That you still make me smile 
How were we to know 
When I bid you adieu 
It would be the last time 
I’d ever see you—