Famously unamused, she sits and stares
Across Woodhouse Lane to a distant hill,
Her plinth so high, I wonder how she fares,
Her present location a bitter pill;
She once sat outside Leeds Town Hall and reigned
Over the city-centre, and then came the move
To the park, her expression slightly strained
Watching youngsters experiment with love.
For me she’s where she has always been
Passing on my bike or the bus I spy
A touch of mossy damp, she is bright green,
With only pigeons to meet her chilly eye.
Oh Vicky, old love, may call you this?
Stony retirement does not look like bliss.
From ‘Heart Stones’, Valley Press 
Illustration by Jacky Fleming