Isabella

A POEM INSPIRED BY JAMES.K.BAXTER (THE VILLAGE) The village was usual enough; it had A butcher, a cinema, a dairy, a church with a Pointed steeple and even a very elaborate Christmas tree that I love to admire. My friends, my godsister and I Did what friends do - strolled around like we owned the place, Sipped gingerly at our coffee, snacked on various items, window-shopped Until we were bored out of our minds, tried to think of something we could that we hadn't done already, Leafed through pages and inhaling the smell of new boooks, Doing nothing important.