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Ballad of Burton Road... Under Parrs Wood original

Under Parr’s Wood

A Poem inspired by Under Milk Wood by Dylan Thomas, as read by Richard Burton, and set on Burton Road in Didsbury…


To begin at the beginning…or the end of the road, which is a kind of a beginning.

It is Spring, and the mosque stands guard, though few burqas promenade its street or frequent its bars. Its spire punctures the sky, echoes of the old Methodist Chapel, an...

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Ballad of Bearded Chorlton

The Ballad of Bearded Chorlton


Is Chorlton feeling cross

At the recent price of fuel?

Or worried that its neighbourhood

Is looking much less cool?


Are parents getting angry

At the lack of fairy lights

Is the message going viral

That the precinct’s still quite shite?


Are there gangs of undesirables

Skulking round our cars?

Caught on doorbell cams at n...

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Fingers Crossed.. a poem for our times

Fingers Crossed

The buds now open, sun dispels the dark

The nights of bat give way to morning lark.

And as we emerge, blinking, into the light,

Brim full with fright, and delight,

Apprehensive, yet pensive of all we have faced

And what may lie ahead, braced

Despite it all, against the odds

We hold hands aloft, with fingers crossed.


When threads seem thin which hold...

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Psychedelic Chic

Psychedelic Cheek


He’s the epitome of bravado

In his sunshine yellow suit

His shirt is avocado

And his after shave is Brut.


With his round handled black umbrella

And his bright green kipper tie

He’s quite a unique fella

A dashing kind of guy.


He’s become a local landmark

Parading Chorlton’s streets

He’s never been to Primark

He has psychedelic chi...

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And you may feel I am too loud

Too in your face, a bit too much

For you to take, but leave me

Be and you will see this is not about you

And though I say I’m tight and might

Say more than others have before

I do not need you to tell me I’m right

Or feed my ego, tell me you love

The way I flick my hair

Or how I lick each word

That slips from my lips as I rea...

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