Henry & Lucille

Another day dawned,

The sunbeams wrenching Lucille back into the land of the living.

A groan, a stretch and a chance fart heralded the day,

As the dust fairies spread their wings.


She reached for her stick,

Briefly recalling that Henry always used to bring it to her

Before he'd shuffled off,

One last time,

Fifteen months ago.


It hadn't been the first time he'd ...

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The Gnome and his Snakes

He often was seen holding court

In the corner of the wine bar,

Quaffing "only the best claret, m'dear"

Haw haw


His disciples took care to surround him

For fear of intrusion by lower beings,

Those whose social standing fell short,

And whose tastes were less polished, less focussed



"Be off

And sup your brown ale

And new world wine elsewher...

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And the Walls did Weep

For three score years

He'd lived within the same four walls,

And had paid them no attention.

Through their strength,

And his will,

Gentle shelter

Had been laid before his precious Rose

And their four madcap children.


Tempests wild,

Demons tall,

Bailiffs vain,

Vermin small,

Ne'er do wells

And know-it-alls,

Each were repelled

From within those walls.


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Killing the Long Game

I live my life the way that I choose

Within a commonly accepted framework,

Both legal and moral.


My creeds are common sense,

Honesty and freedom of choice.


Am I consistent in my actions? Probably not,

But I try to do my best,

Keep myself to myself

And get on with living my life.


Is it necessary for me to set a good example?

Quite probably, but within na...

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Tom's Battles

Tom's body slumps

In his allocated chair

Which, over the years,

Had cradled many a bony backside.

His the latest in the queue

Of the soon to be forgotten.


His resigned expression

Hides a mind

Energised by the memory of

Childhood battles on imaginary castle walls,

Wooden swords and shields,

Of slaying the enemy,

Saving the realm

And returning home a hero.


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The Hat

Mrs Gwendoline Bowles

Lives behind the tenth door

Along Jubilee Terrace

In the greyness of Bury.

Her neighbours know little about her except

That she moved in last year,

And is always polite

With her "how-do-you do's"

And shy smile.


At ten every morning

She appears on her step,

Underneath a wool hat

Of sky blue and red.

With a basket she walks to the sho...

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In an instant his eyes flicked from left to right

And back again

As he remembered the last time he'd seen Nicole.


It was in 1969.


They'd met two years earlier

At a friend's party,

A chance gathering of two paths

Each leading to a different star.


He of the patchwork jeans,

The faraway eyes, and no ambition


And she with the short blonde hair,

The ...

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The Rebel

He was a man of high intelligence

"Alphonse the Boffin" they called him

Though he wasn't a boffin

And his name was Raymond.

But they knew that, somehow,

He was different.


He didn't often socialise

Because he hated nonsensical small-talk

And the people who felt compelled

To play that game.

Rain is rain, sun is sun.

Who really cares?

He thought.



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Martha Street

Grace is awakened, yet gently,

By the cheery sound of the night-watchman

As he passes by her window, his work done


Below, the gas-blue flame of the street lamp slowly pulses.

Its unheard siren-call beckoning the powerless moths

To one final, carefree dance


And another day dawns

On Martha Street, London, E1


Slowly, Grace embraces the lingering chill night-air


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Aisha with Beads

Aisha with beads

And her African smile

Takes shade

With sun high

Under Gamada's tree


A million dim shimmers

From soil baked to amber

Look on as Aisha

Hums softly

Her tune


She dreams of the evening

When Kofi

Her lifeblood

Returns with his quarry

And together they'll eat


And how proud he will be

When she lays out before him

The beads ...

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