With ABBA’s return, I though it an ideal time to post this poem that was included in my first collection, Heading North, published by Nordland Publishing.
I’d written it whilst sat up one late Autumn night, listening to an early Agnetha Fältskog song, composed in her native tongue when she was just sixteen. A downpour occurring just beyond the limits of that darkened room contributed to the general mood: she was singing of a doomed love affair; I was thinking of other times.
City Jackdaw 
This is probably going to sound like I’m stating the obvious, but you have such a way with words, Andy.
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Thank you Linda. No mean wordsmith yourself 🙂
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Beautiful poem. That Agneta song was a hit in Sweden back in those days.
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Her first hit, and decades on still a favourite of mine which goes to show that with music you don’t need to understand the words to appreciate it.
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I know. Music and words have a special language together that any one who wants can understand.
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