It’s dusk in South London,
Towards Clapham, red sky
Deepens, darkest crimson,
Reason fades like sunset.
In a Vauxhall garden
Scattered white bread slices
Adorn the darkling lawn.
On deck, expectantly
Sits urban wild life freak,
Camera in one hand,
Chardonnay in other,
As he awaits his guests.
Radio newsreader
Is switched off in kitchen
Whilst announcing sad death
Of our democracy
At the bandstand vigil.
Last vestiges of light
Fade as the hedgerow parts
And the fox family
Trot acrooss flowerbeds,
No longer timidly,
But bold as bold can be.
In cells old bill scupper
Their community links,
But here, they pour more drinks,
Foxes enjoy supper.

Harry Rogers, in the Yellow Room, 21st March 2021


Demo recorded at Last Track Studio with Annika Fehling and Markus Rill on 14th June 2014.
Alternative version of Old Horses In The Field with added drums and bass guitar.


I’ve been spending  my precious time
Watching the nags standing in the field
Lately I’ve been wondering what they see and feel
As they toss their matted manes into the air

Some days run kicking their heels up
Like they did when they were young young colts
They mooch staring though rheumy eyes
Waiting for that something to happen

Old horses in the field
Old horses in the field
Treat them well
Treat them well
Old horses in the field

In summer the smell of the orchard
Drives old stallions wild again
Come winter mud around hooves
Leaves running legs mired and tired
But oh the urgent nudging and nuzzling
People stand at the old five bar gates
With carrots and apples in pockets
Sweet treats for hard ridden mates

Old horses in the field
Old horses in the field
Treat them well
Treat them well
I know just how they feel

Harry Rogers, in the old study 29-11-2013