She waits for me poised as for flight,

I’m sure she won’t and yet she might;

sweet laugh that lingers just to tease

and floats upon a scented breeze

to tantalise.

The sun-kissed highlights in her hair

so vivid I could only stare,

and now forever fixed in view

this dancing girl with vibrant blue

sunshiney eyes.

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There’s a house with a snail on the roof

I can tell you this isn’t a spoof

I have seen this surprise

With my very own eyes

So believe me I’m telling the troof!

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One single leaf will signal summer’s end

by settling slowly to the forest floor,

to stimulate the coming multitude

that follow, sure as seasons ever turn.

Then at its height a veritable storm

of falling foliage will fill the air,

a varicoloured blizzard sweeping down

in rainbow shades of ochre, red and gold

to form a blanket covering the ground,

so crisp they c...

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A wordless glance at the waiting dog,

eager in the evening sun,

and off she goes,

legs a-blur through the fallow field

to the headland, where cattle gather,

waiting.

They start to move before she arrives,

knowing it’s time,

aching to be milked.

Hurtling back and forth,

she keeps the small herd together,

tightly packed in a slow-motion stampede.

Ambling...

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The thunderous storm begins to dissipate,

as clouds disperse into the newborn night.

Wild waking woodland whispers of its fate,

and moonlight paints the world in silvered light.

A tawny owl soars up against the sky,

with gimlet gaze to search the ground below,

then cautious movement draws his watchful eye

and down he dives, to deal his prey’s deathblow.

A gentle b...

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Are we there yet?

Creeping along in the toxic reek

of burbling exhausts,

windows down to cool the

sun-seared steering wheel,

and move the breathless air.

Are we there yet?

Inane songs to deflect boredom.

Are they all going to the seaside too?

Can we go on the roundabouts?

I spy with my little eye

something beginning with…

Are we there yet?

Can we ha...

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Black cat, ginger cat

pedigree or moggy

in a house or in a flat

better than a doggie

That’s what owners think

while their cats just laugh

say with a knowing wink

“Listen to the staff!”

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I wonder as I wander down the Wild Atlantic Way,

how the wonders that I see along the coast

have moods that seem to vary every hour of every day,

and I can’t decide which one I love the most.

There’s scorching summer days although they’re few and far between,

interspersed with sudden squalls and lots of rain

that paint this wondrous island in so many shades of green

till ...

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Time there was when we had time,

time to pass the time of day;

now it’s all a pantomime,

and those times seem so far away.

For times have changed, and that’s no lie,

and time’s a thief, that’s what they say;

sometimes despite how hard we try,

the hands of time just tick away.

The tides of time will ebb and flow,

and time may heal the greatest ill,

so you can...

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People talk of lovely gardens,

how they love to grow such flowers;

shaded there by trembling aspens

in the brightly coloured bowers.

Days and days they spend there working,

weeding, feeding, spraying, pruning,

spring and summer, never shirking,

manicuring and fine-tuning.

I don’t think that I could join them,

that's a chore I’d long lament;

such a garden I’d...

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After lunch, we knock on the door

my brother and I.

Is Stephen playing out?

The perennial plea of childhood,

He appears and by unspoken agreement

we march purposefully off

past the anonymous houses

that line the suburban streets

to the sand hills a short mile away.

As we walk, we plan

the construction of a magnificent fortress

to repel rapacious invaders,

w...

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It’s a soft Irish day in Donegal

with drizzle drifting in across the bay,

the beach a shadow of its sunny best

and mountains masked in grey.

It is the height of summer by the sea;

delinquent sun has up and gone astray

and though it’s damp it isn’t really cold

but dewdrops hang from hay.

The tourists hide in cottage and hotel

to shelter from the unexpected grey.

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Time was we took the time to greet each day,

our kith and kin, and strangers that we’d meet.

And I can still recall those tranquil times

with fondness in the not-so-distant past,

when people talked, and met up face to face,

and conversation was a living art,

now lost in times that seem to have no soul,

and individuality is gone.

For now we live with sound bites and wit...

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Sun burns steadily in a scorched sapphire sky. Sparse, wispy clouds drift unhurriedly overhead in a lazy journey towards the distant Costa Blanca coast. A craggy outcrop thrusts upwards to challenge the heights of surrounding jagged mountains that overlook the crenellated ramparts. A solitary, dissonant clang from the church belfry heralds the slow awakening of this Moorish village, sleepily comin...

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It is the evening, and my heart is sad

to know my day is passing like the tide,

whose ripples now recede as others had

to find the sands of time can’t be denied.

The incandescent light of life sinks low,

to quench itself in vastness of the sea

that stretches out, towards its lustrous glow

and slowly dims its luminosity.

As loss of light approaches fatefully,

su...

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Happen tha knows abaht cricket

and mebbe tha’s heard what we’re told

when Yorkshire’s the top county ticket

then England are cock o’ the world

Now sitha that just doesn’t jell.

Dassent tha think it sounds odd?

For if Tykes are playin’ so well

then half o’ t’ team’s in t’test squad

Why if all t’best lads are gone missin’

and laikin’ for England tha’ knows

the...

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Last night when I went home to see my mum,

she nagged me all night long about the beard;

went on and on until my ears were numb,

and told me it was time it disappeared.

I said I thought it made me look quite cool

and maybe even somewhat dignified,

but she came back with “Vinny, you’re a fool!”

and said this time she would not be denied.

She went and got my dad’s o...

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Fibbery-fobbery

POTUS the Orangeman

Blatantly photobombed

FIFA’s World Cup

Stood with the Spanish team

Narcissistically

Seeking a winner’s ring

For turning up.

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I nearly tried to talk to you today,

but quickly chickened out because I knew

that I was far too petrified to say

a thing, in case my feelings filtered through.

When I see you, my pulse begins to race,

and then I feel the burning on my cheeks.

I’m sure it’s brightly written on my face,

‘cause when I try to speak it comes in squeaks.

My trepidation turns into fatig...

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A third-place playoff; what a bitter blow

for those convinced that it was coming home.

Can someone tell me, ‘cause I’ll never know

why deep defence beneath Atlanta’s dome

became their plan, with men like Messi there?

It just invited them to find a way

to dance around and through like Fred Astaire,

though even Ginger could have on the day.

That wizard with his magi...

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Friends of friends, gathered by pure happenstance. She observed him as he arrived, surreptitiously watching as he joined a small knot of people across the restaurant. He greeted them, then cast his eyes round the bar area. Quickly, she looked away but thought she felt his gaze land. A peripheral glance confirmed it, bringing a slight reddening to her cheeks. He was unknown to her, though she recog...

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Words to woo,

words to wound,

words to warp the truth;

fallacies and fantasies,

sly deceitful strategies,

twist the lies to suit.

Politicians’ promises,

conspirators, accomplices,

shake the money tree;

stop the lies,

break the ties,

when will we be free?

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A parliament of owls will gather round to have a chat,

and spread the wisdom gathered through the day.

A passing murmuration sees no relevance in that,

they’re more concerned with aerial display.

A whole bazaar of guillemots is searching for some food,

those succulent crustaceans off the beach.

The foxes would be skulk-ing, but the birds are far too shrewd,

so fowl for no...

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We’ve got the people handled, running scared,

now I can do exactly as I please,

by raking in a fortune unimpaired,

and send in ICE to keep them on their knees,

forgetting what democracy is for;

but if they ask, we’ll start another war.

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Friday evening the sun goes down as she shuts the door,

silently stares in her lonely room,

sitting there still in the growing gloom

as she reaches out for the TV remote on the mantelpiece.

Aimlessly searching the channels to see

something to set her mind free

She (She’s made a mess of her life)

is missing (left with a lying low-life)

home (promised her everything mone...

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Friends of friends, gathered by pure happenstance. She observed him as he arrived, surreptitiously watching as he joined a small knot of people across the restaurant. He greeted them, then cast his eyes round the bar area. Quickly, she looked away but thought she felt his gaze land. A peripheral glance confirmed it, bringing a slight reddening to her cheeks. He was unknown to her, though she recog...

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This man threatens our existence, that much is surely clear,

a scary mega-villain who blights our biosphere,

like Daleks to the Doctor, a planetary curse,

or Agent Smith to Neo, and maybe even worse.

He’s arrogant and slimy, an orange kinda guy,

a barefaced prevaricator self-enriching on the sly,

like a two-bit used car salesman, the worst one ever spawned

who’d do his be...

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Sweet cherry blossom fills the forest air

like walking in a snow globe shaken fresh,

its soft opacity a scented snare

to trap me as a newborn in the crèche.

This miracle whose annual reprise

arrests me on my march along the trail,

to wonder at the magic in the breeze

in minute and magnificent detail.

This momentary pause is not enough

to fully grasp the scope o...

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Destruction.

Front-page news production.

But death is no longer a headline,

it’s collateral damage at finance’s shrine;

sacrificing people to billionaires’ design.

They never believe they have enough.

The world has had enough!

Just…enough!

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I wanna be an astronaut and cruise out through the stars

to visit other galaxies more beautiful than ours.

I’d learn about Andromeda and Magellanic Clouds,

and wander round the Whirlpool beyond space’s deepest shrouds.

We’d seek out other species, just to see if they are there,

then offer them our friendship and what knowledge we can share.

I might not be the captain, but I ...

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I thought it was something special

because it shone so bright.

The light I saw in your eyes

ignited the glow inside my heart,

but like pyrites, it only glittered to deceive.

It was a pretty thing that entertained and flattered,

yet shattered when exposed to real emotion.

An ugly thing pretending to be true,

a faked investment in an illusory future.

Because it was only fo...

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We’ll recognise the 8th of May

with Happy Birthday cheers,

because we know that on that day

he’s lived a hundred years.

The legacy of David’s days

should never be dismissed,

his résumé would have us praise

a very lengthy list.

He talked us through his chilling tales

about our biosphere,

the catalogue of human fails

that make it worse each year.

No...

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So long, I bid a fond farewell

‘cause NaPoWriMo, it was hell.

30 days and 30 writes

stressed my muse for many nights.

Some were good and others awful,

rubbish rhyme, cliché, and waffle.

Now I’ve made the month-long streak,

I can rest at least a week.

Shout it out with real conviction,

poetry’s a strange addiction.

Still, I guess I made it here,

and maybe ...

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The movie I was watching became somewhat soporific

on top of which the dialogue was really not terrific.

The script was even worse, extremely dense and monolithic,

director quite inept, did not deserve the honorific.

My eyes became quite heavy and they soon began to close,

and all at once I fell into involuntary doze.

It’s hard then giving credit to the dreamscape that arose...

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The forest is an untidy place, strewn with

decaying leaves and rotting vegetation.

Beech and oak and sycamore tower above,

reaching for the light that gives them life.

Home to life that can only exist in their being.

Trees. The lungs that give us breath.

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Considering The Thinker, deep in thought

while sitting on his rock there, in the nude,

immortalised by Monsieur Rodin, caught

off guard in this profoundly pensive mood.

Did some conundrum make him thus reflect,

some deep, disturbing personal event?

Or City Fathers stumbling unchecked,

with crazy bylaws causing discontent.

This riddle would perhaps go unresolved

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Midnight whispers haunt my dreams.

with fractured hints of nightmare screams,

their sibilants as yet unclear,

still stimulate uneasy fear

and interrupt my sleep regimes.

Some nights can run to such extremes

that demons come in swarming streams,

and in those scenes I only hear

midnight whispers.

My consciousness by daytime deems

that all these horror-stricken...

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At the bottom of the garden

stands an ancient lilac tree.

Its flowers have been blooming there

for far more years than me.

In summer it’s a parasol

to keep us in the shade

while eating dainty sandwiches

and drinking lemonade.

In autumn and in springtime

it was shelter from the showers,

when we were playing football

as we did for hours and hours.

A...

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They’re weary and they hunger so,

escaping from a brutal war,

and all they want’s a place to go.

If you just listen, you would know

they’ve risked so much to get this far;

they’re weary and they hunger so.

They didn’t want to leave, and no,

It doesn’t matter who they are

‘cause all they want’s a place to go.

They left their land with kids in tow,

to fle...

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Once more the birds return to sing,

as on the early morning breeze

they flit about between the trees.

Pursuing ancient rites of spring,

they follow their agrestic quest

to build and populate a nest.

We see them there upon the wing,

as back and forth they daily strive

to gather food so hatchlings thrive,

so nature simply does her thing,

and we can watch ...

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The names we acquire through the course of our lives

can start with a hodgepodge of honest affection,

with family lore to temper the mix,

and humour thrown in so it's said with a smile.

There are weird conventions that drive us to nicknames;

some merely shorten our own given names.

The weirdness arrives when our first names grow longer,

or when monikers come from way out ...

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I just can’t sleep, it’s killing me

to lie awake eternally.

I feel so tired and want to weep;

it’s killing me, I just can’t sleep

When I count sheep it doesn’t work.

I sometimes doze, but not too deep;

each sleepless night drives me berserk.

It doesn’t work when I count sheep.

I toss and turn all through the night;

by day I look an awful sight,

with hair awr...

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Freesia Lactea, milky white,

enjoys the feel of full sunlight.

Sets her roots in well-drained loam

to spread its scent around her home,

enticing bees to pause their flight.

Sweet Pea, known as Gwendoline,

grows quite tall on stems so thin.

Magenta-pink her fragrant flowers,

wondrous sight that never sours,

dappled shade for thriving in.

Hydrangea is a bushy ...

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Spittery-spottery

nobody wants to see

blackhead emergency

life is the pits,

when it’s quite plain to see

dermatologically

that someone’s horribly

covered in zits.

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Woodland scents waft on the balmy breeze.

as we push through hillside trees and bushes.

Countless shades of green, leaves parting

to reveal a first sight of the water,

placid, glinting neath simmering sun.

Ripples stream behind a sluggish boat,

dislocating the reflection of candy floss clouds.

Sandy shores slide into waiting water,

veiled with a variegated blue-grey cl...

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Like the pig’s back she is named for, she squats,

broods silent over ancient untamed land,

a looming presence, first and final sight

of every waking day through all her years.

We see her in every form and guise. An aristocrat,

cloud-shrouded shoulders wrapped in silvered shawl.

Obscured within the torrents of wild Atlantic storms

that flood her flanks to feed the waiting ...

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Love of places, love of things,

wretched birds with broken wings,

new romantic flutterings

have space within my heart.

Distant cousins, absent friends,

wayward folk who make amends,

hopes for how the story ends

have space within my heart.

Beaches, mountains, lakes and trees,

floral scents upon the breeze,

those momentous memories

have space within my hear...

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Pretty little songbird,

sit and sing for me.

Your song has my heart stirred

perched there on your tree.

You’re so very cheerful,

I’m alone and sad,

feeling rather tearful,

still you make me glad.

Such a tiny creature,

trilling out so clear.

Happy woodland songster

drives away my fear.

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There by the lake we made our camp,

in a clearing between forest and bank,

and canvas tents, pitched storm-style.

The kitchen we built from fallen wood,

cut and lashed together with sisal,

set around the stone-circled cooking fire.

When we woke, shafts of sun trickled

through glistening beech and pine,

still moist from early morning mizzle.

Breakfast, frie...

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There are no groceries in my grandma’s house,

only empty cupboards with a tracery of dust.

The fridge is empty too, the power long turned off,

a testament to saving energy.

There is no money in my grandma’s purse,

no old forgotten banknotes, nor even errant coins.

It’s all been spent on heating after paying rent,

and eating was outweighed by cruel choice.

There is...

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