Ben Macnair is an award-winning poet and playwright from Staffordshire in the United Kingdom. Follow him on Twitter @ benmacnair

Autumn Mornings

Choose the seat with the clearest view,
watch the night sky slowly
unveil the beauty of the morning air.
Take in the first rays of a sun,
hundreds of years into its journey,
hear the whistle of the milk man,
the slow thrum of the morning,
as it wakes up,
feels its old bones creaking
inside a new body.

Watch as the leaves take on a darker hue,
see your footprints in the new morning dew.
See the chestnuts on the ground,
the people going to their jobs,
the frost of their breath in the air.
Know that every year for the rest of your life,
Autumn mornings will start like this,
and you are already years into your journey.

Fairgrounds in Winter

Dreamland is closed for the winter.
Dreamland will re-open in May.
You must be this high,
for this ride.

Candy floss machines have long memories,
and the echoes of fun
reverberate in the lifeless bricks.
The hall of mirrors,
is bent, like time, out of shape.
There are old foot-prints
on old carpets,
the woodwork is peeling.
It needs a good lick of paint.
A reminder of what it used to be like.
Dreamland is closed for Winter

Dreamland is closed for winter.
All it needs is for people to talk about the good times.
The stolen kisses and the stolen time.
The kiss me quick hats.
The faded comedians, cancelled by younger people
to quick to take offence, too slow to understand.

Times were different then.
They came here to escape for the summer.
Playing on the arcade games,
staring out to sea,
waiting for a boat or a plane to take them away.
Dreamland is closed for the winter.
You must be this high,
for this ride.

Erik Satie’s Umbrellas

After he died, a hundred Umbrellas,
were found in Erik Satie’s apartment.
Maybe the reason Gymnopedie  sounds like it does,
Is that Satie always expected rain.