Wednesday, 29 June 2011

The potholes, the bumps, the clouds, the lows. They are all worth it for the moment of flying through the air, the highs, that sparkle of the silver lining.

- Little Poet

Tuesday, 28 June 2011


Tonight they are home,
But still, sit the two
Empty chairs at the table.
Two plates less to wash.
Their Mothers hold hankies
To their eyes, while
Their Fathers nod to themselves proudly, reaching
Into the mahogony cabinet in the
Sitting room, placing the medal
With the Queen's name inside, so it
Stands up in its box.
Tonight they are home
And the sounds will be quieter, now.
But over there, in Afghanistan,
The cracks, the shots,
The splitting of flesh
Go on.

Thought for the day

Trifles make perfection, but perfection is no trifle.    

- Michelangelo

Friday, 24 June 2011

The van

You were there, sitting beside me
And I was driving -
I didn't have a license in the dream, either
And the van was out of control, flying over potholes
That made us bounce in the air, up and down
With no seat belts on.
When we went over the edge of the cliff
You were there, sitting beside me
As the glare of the bright, yellow sun
Became streaked with splashes of red.

Thursday, 23 June 2011

Reading under spotlight

I'm reading a short story of mine at on Sunday! I better get practising my reading voice.


Wednesday, 8 June 2011

A thief through the letterbox

It's cold and the sky is grey -
The birds are in their nests,
My wallet is empty.

A statement from the bank -
More charges for taking out money
and going over the overdraft.

Twenty-five pounds a time -
I didn't know.
Nothing they can do,

When they have all my money -
and charge me for taking it out.
Tears come and the skies crack open and

The rain falls -
I have to run out before
The clothes are soaked.

Monday, 6 June 2011


To and fro, to and fro -
Your brush, moving so steadily
I can count on it

To be there, always. With
A smell of White Spirit
That could knock a horse

And a spattered sheet at your feet,
Or wood chipping and a chisel
In your hand. Painting,

Filling in. Making good.
To and fro, to and fro -
Rocking me like a child

In your arms, small
Against your broad chest
And strong arms that are
So used to the flow of the brush.