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Guisecliff Crag, August

Where the fragrant heather moorland borders

wildwood, by the crags above the river,

the harebells and last fading heads of clover

nod themselves to sleep in drowsy August.

The ling is now full-on and tightly ordered

spikes of tiny flowers blanket over

the landscape like an Emperor’s purple toga

swathed across the heights, but thrice more gorgeous.

The fated grouse may look ...

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'Cloth and Club' - August 2018 Collage Poem

Fidel Castro let go of the bed

His broken record bucks with static


Blame blame blame the

P.E. teacher who made my

Life grim.


The earth is burning, the earth is burning

May as well spend the weekend on Blackpool Sands


Love beats abortion, irony beats stupidity

Swirling around in a stark blood red orange

Lost in a made-up history of calming fire-pit ale


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AugustClothClubCollage PoemStockport Write Out Loud

End of Summer

The end of the season

Brought to a close

Even when there’s a reason

Summer comes and goes

Do you know your summer’s a-fading,

Do you remember?

The hot sun, the warm cooled nights waning

Into September.

School was gone, and I — carefree all along

Oh! Now my old school worries are back

As that sun sets, I’m in sad song

Those shining days, soon to lack

The air beco...

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