Paths Behind the Tenement
composed @ 1945 hours, Saturday 6 December 2003 Every close is named Every gloom filled passage links one world To another. Filled with secrets Filled with lives untold The lamp that flickers beneath...
View ArticlePaths Behind the Tenement
composed @ 1945 hours, Saturday 6 December 2003 Every close is named Every gloom filled passage links one world To another. Filled with secrets Filled with lives untold The lamp that flickers beneath...
View ArticleUnderground
composed @ 2210 hours, Saturday 6 December 2003 Vaulted ceilings And darkened corners, The faces of the past hide within. The screeching of rats; the gnawing of their teeth; the feel of them across...
View ArticleUnderground
composed @ 2210 hours, Saturday 6 December 2003 Vaulted ceilings And darkened corners, The faces of the past hide within. The screeching of rats; the gnawing of their teeth; the feel of them across...
View ArticlePoem on Edinburgh
composed @ 2130 hours, Friday 5 December 2003 Edinburgh. Cobbles and railings. Castles and palaces. Bars and good conversation Life in a whisky glass— with a view over the Forth. Home, that is made— by...
View ArticlePoem on Edinburgh
composed @ 2130 hours, Friday 5 December 2003 Edinburgh. Cobbles and railings. Castles and palaces. Bars and good conversation Life in a whisky glass— with a view over the Forth. Home, that is made— by...
View ArticleThe Tour Guide
composed @ 2330 hours, Saturday 6 December 2003 Pulling her cloak about her, A face, innocence itself She draws us in by torchlight (shone upwards across her smiling face) And imparts her stories of...
View ArticleThe Tour Guide
composed @ 2330 hours, Saturday 6 December 2003 Pulling her cloak about her, A face, innocence itself She draws us in by torchlight (shone upwards across her smiling face) And imparts her stories of...
View Article[untitled]
I’m back. My folks are back. I’ve had a good break. They’ve had a good holiday. Things are as they are.
View ArticleHurting
Hurting Hurting in my heart Restless in my soul. Your voice in my ears Your face inmy vision. I am hurting; Hurting for You. Last night, when you said goodnight to me. Light night, when you danced with...
View ArticleMy life, on three sides of A4
My head is imploding in words and ways of saying things The two pages of my life the curriculum vitae Sit there; new and updated and the letter One side of A4 and a tangled mess of ideas of thoughts;...
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Ronnie
You had that look in your eyes and that purr that defined you. You always knew what you wanted and were very good at telling us. You were loving and dependable. You couldn’t catch birds and micickles;...
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Autumn Walk
This poem was written sometime around 1986/7 by Me, aged 13 (or thereabouts). I’d completely forgotten I had written this, but as soon as I read it I remembered precisely when I had, and where it was...
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On National Poetry Day
A Day for Poetry There is a time and a place a thought; a feeling; an emotion when there is no other way to say it. It can be for sorrow and grief joy and exultation when politics angers you or life...
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On the twelfth day of advent: Avebury in winter
The Ring In Winter Birds circle, overhead Calling, cawing A cold, grey mist lingers over mound and ditch. Stones loom over me For age after age, they have stood in this place. Seasons have passed...
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The Occasional Poet
Whenever I start a new notebook to jot down my writing notes there comes first a period where I have to transcribe bits and pieces across from the old to the new. I have quite a collection of truly...
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Lucy and Luke’s wedding
Emma and I have just got back from a very nice day at Cogges Manor Farm, celebrating the wedding of two very good friends, Lucy and Luke. From the detailed, hand-illustrated, invitations we always...
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There once was a chicken called Wiggy
Wiggy You were not our first hen, but you were our oldest lady. One of the girls. Your eggs they were not the biggest Indeed, they were the smallest of the small. Perfect blue, with the creamiest...
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Composed on the bus
Disengagement (of the modern world) Scroll down Swipe left Swipe right. Scroll down and back. Missed announcement, Not even a like, or a comment. Friends’ news? Did you really, even read it? Scroll...
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Composed on the bus
Fallen leaves, And dry stone walls in the foggy half light, Makes the perfect Autumn morning.
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