Waterperry By Richard Waterperry


A little Garden, grateful to the Eye;
And a cool Rivulet run murm’ring by:
On whose delicious Banks a stately Row
Of shady Limes, or Sycamores, should grow.
From ‘The Choice’ by John Pomfret.

We sat under the trees at Waterperry.
A cup of builder’s tea and lemon drizzle –
with poetry between us,
Pomfret flowing.

All too easily we sat
under the canopy
as love got going,
knowing exactly where we’d be

under the trees at Waterperry.

Richard Hawtree is listed on The Blue Nib Directory

Find Richard Hawtree’s The Night I Spoke Irish In Surry at Dempsey and Windel.

Richard Hawtree
Richard Hawtree.
The Night I Spoke Irish In Surry.

About the contributor

Related Articles

James Fountain- New Poetry

Empty Highway Home The road is clear, but for the weather lashing down liquid intermittently, my wipers doing overtime at midnight, after a John Mayall gig in Stoke,...

The Man Who Walked Away From Himself. Barry Fentiman Hall

THE MAN WHO WALKED AWAY FROM HIMSELF One day, I am not sure when, my father walked away from...

Analog Beauty – Jordan Trethewey

Jordan Trethewey considers 'the dust of unassuming lives' in these two compelling poems


Please enter your comment!
Please enter your name here

More Like This


Michelle Bermudez is a Latina poet who received her MFA in creative writing at Adelphi University

Terese Coe -Poetry

RELENTLESSRounder and deeper than the line, the soundbreaks up through dry leaves.Meandering, the river,  through you. Branded, you, with even the bitterness that brandsthe Western...

The Sheathing. William Conelly

THE SHEATHING An angel robed in stainless steel  loomed piously above his bed.  It proffered neither...

Translation Po-Int editor, Clara Burghelea.

Translation Po-Int editor, Clara Burghelea on the talent she selected for issue 42

New Poetry- Edward Lee

IN THE DARKNESS THERE IS REST In the wall above every bed I have ever lay upon there is a window so well hidden not even the night can find it, leaving...