Britsoc: The British Society of Amsterdam and the Netherlands. Serving the British Expat community since 1920.

Summer Poetry

Summer Poetry

Three summer poems with sand between each stanza



by Sally Johnson


 You comin’ mate for a pint o’ beer? 

Can’t mate, got a bloomin’ pain in me left ear. 

It’s givin’ me ‘avoc n makin’ me queer; 

Gonna ‘ave to see the doc tomorro’ I fear. 

Awright, take care mate, n we’ll send you some cheer 

From the pub round the corner, The Laughin’ Cavalier. 

Wonder ‘ow many ‘e ‘ad; ‘e’s got quite a leer! 

Yeah, booze, girls n gold; a geezer to revere! 

Have a good ‘un mate n keep your ‘ead clear. 

You know what ‘appened last time when you couldn’t steer. 

Smack into those bushes, didn’t you veer? 

Take it easy mate, ‘cos life’s too fuckin’ dear.


by Sally Johnson


 Surrounded by your perfectly cast silk, 

Your geometric precision can be matched by few. 

Your spatial shrewdness and daring are more than opportunist; 

You are an engineer of nature. 

As you bask suspended in the centre of your creation, 

You seem docile in the soft autumnal sun. 

Your body rests as motionless as today’s windless air; 

You are a responsive creature. 

As an engineer you, too, have a strategy, 

While your striped body and silk glisten delicately in the light. 

It is more than fine thread you weave – it is a genius’s trap; 

You are a perceptive inventor. 

Your stance is an intriguing illusion to the ignorant, 

Since at the slightest vibration, a light insect’s wing or a man’s sneeze, 

Your alertness is triggered, and you pounce eagerly to consume; 

You are a subtle warrior.



by Dave Thomas © 2016



new line dissects backdrop
cultural landscape
musings displaced

embankment shields teeming ditch
slender reeds
dragonfly’s hum

modern erection
new halt
bleak contrast
old line station

on-board, different rhythm
rural conformity
city vitality
tensions unleashed