When I was younger

My friend and I 

Would talk about what color 

We'd change things to

If we could. 

It was always nature. 

The trees

The leaves

The grass

The ocean

Our blood

The sky

I've always wanted a purple sky

Something about it seemed so

Magical;

A new way to see clouds

And how much more beautiful 

Storms could be

How it might

Ble...

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Our Eden

At long last, years ago,

we’d made our house a home;

my North-facing patch is cool,

and only catches sunlight

for a few hours in the morning,

with a glow towards the evening.

Her patch, South-facing, hot

as a Mediterranean vineyard,

sloped steeply, needing steps,

which I built with my own two hands,

u...

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It is here that lies your beauty
do not testify to me anymore
of dandelions and daffodils
of butterflies and bees
do not sing like crows
beyond the dispersion of sight
then gather
in cold bare trees
sick with
discord
dislike
misfeasance.
The reward for
transgressions
destroys the cache
of elegance
of magnificence
of splendor
do not pour out sadness
breathless
from your panting ...

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They say it kills horses and ponies

Worried farmers kill it with spray

Yet ragwort has another side

You don't hear of every day

The virtues of ragwort are few

Yet it provides pollen for bees

Its stalks are a nursery for moth grubs

On my land it grew up to my knees

I did my back in pulling it up

Saw starving bees fly off to die

Ever since then I've felt guilt...

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The following piece is a snippet from Buzzin Bards Manchester Poetry Anthology, submissions are still open at:  https://www.localgemspoetrypress.com/buzzin-bards-poetry-anthology.html

While you’re too busy being two-faced 

I’ve got one face with many layers. 

Take me at face value, or take a detour, 

reforged, like Ant Man upon my deep pores. 

Tryna get 1UP, that’s a weak score...

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We know each year it comes to us
Darkness, to bright cold winter days
The greens become a golden yellow
Before bareness reveals ageing old oaks
Yet cousins stay that darker luscious green 
And brave red berries are to be born again
In time for their festive December displays

Birds, squirrels, foxes and rats still search
To find enough to live in our way 
Close enough, but not as our pre...

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A Sting In The Tale

The throbbing drone

borne upon a summer breeze,

that moves the grass gently

and whispers through the trees.

The honeycomb

dribbles onto plates at high teas.

We take for granted

simple pleasures such as these.

From the mountain pastures

to the shores of tranquil seas,

they bob and weave and buzz

on their busy working sprees.

To th...

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16th July 2018

In places the grass is brown and dry

The garden is a desert of cracked peat

Plants dead and trees about to die

Only my sunflower loves the heat

But this is Wales, yet

nearly all of my bees

have never known these

 raindrops

until

today

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Thirty-nine bodies

                lay on the ground

                in the summer sun

As I watched

                workers carried two more away

Around me

                life continued as usual

                a hum of activity

                oblivious

Thirty-nine bodies

                on that square of concrete

                that summer afternoon

As ...

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She started life as a Roman fort
And became a name synonymous with music and sport
Attracting the greats, the waifs and the strays
Providing a stage for the Babes and the raves
A settlement where three rivers meet
Where the Industrial Revolution rose to its feet
And jangly guitars discovered their beat
Where Emeline, bound, did us all proud
Where the Nazi’s dropped bombs and hatred to the ...

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bees have cheesy feet
that is  a fact I like to share out loud
so with this duly declared I must report,
a garden filled with smelly, flying, bears
working on their winter fat
though garden is more a “nom de guerre”

yet down the road

the doorman’s mantra

“one in one out” is the order of the day
through the cracked masonry of the witches cradle
where the poison failed
and...

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You left a lovely tattoo mark on our grey cloud world

Tatoo Suzi

your lovely bones will rattle on down the dirty streets

of Camden Suzi

where the bees go sleep at night only your hair knows

your hair Suzi

we can drink up in the skies by the railtrack bridge

your bridge Suzi

Break the broken heart

paint the damned soul dark

shut the shut down mind

...

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