Tree of Hope, Locke Park, Barnsley.
It’s been a while but due to the useless shenaningans on Instagram I’ve decided to post loads of my recent
crap doodles back up on here. Apologies in advance if i’ve posted stuff before but think yourself lucky I can be bothered at all.
Enjoy, or don’t, I’m not fussed. Everything listed is mine, mine, mine I tell you!! Steal it and I will find you and bore you to death with stories of coal mining in Yorkshire.
© D. Archer. July 2017
America is big.
Some Americans get lost in America.
Some Americans set off on their journey
like a character from a French film with
“the urge to help mankind”
Sometimes some Americans cant find their own way home
because they have lived only for America all their lives.
Sometimes it takes someone not from America
to help a real American find their way home.
England is small compared to America
but real, beautiful, honest Americans
teach the English that they don’t have to
think, feel or be small any more.
Somewhere in the middle
over the Atlantic ocean
the storms that visit America
are diffused by talking and sharing
and in return the weather in England
benefits from the warmth of the American sun.
There are storms in England too;
Storms don’t go away completely but
that’s why English men have learned to carry umbrellas
to keep themselves and real, beautiful, honest Americans
sheltered for a while from the bad weather
until the storm passes.
The umbrella is heavy
so sometimes the Englishman holds the weight of the Umbrella
and sometimes the American holds the weight
but their is always two hands on the umbrella
one is English and one is American.
Its a big enough umbrella
for both of them to stand beneath
while they talk and share
and learn things about what makes them laugh and cry;
they mutually agree to meet tomorrow
and to keep finding out a little more
about each other.