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Updated: Fri, 3 Apr 2020 11:40 am


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I would not call myself a poet or a writer. When something happens in my life, I like to write it down because it helps me make sense of it. It may be rubbish or it may be gold, what it me.


I know you, Love. I know you, love. Your face is painted in my memory like a dream so real it was hardly just a dream. The realms of dreamers often called upon to make point of the folly fools fancy. The Overland Launch: In the land of Coleridge and his Ancient Mariner, In a time of coal fires, wooden boats and horsepower, There is a story of the Lynmouth Lifeboat Louisa And the night horse and man over 13 miles pulled her. One of my favourites, Joseph Merrick's adaption of False Greatness (Isaac Watts) 'Tis true my form is something odd But blaming me is blaming God Could I create myself anew I would not fail in pleasing you If I could reach from pole to pole Or grasp the ocean with a spam I would be measured by the soul The mind's the standard of the man

All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.

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Thu 2nd Apr 2020 21:42

Thank you for the warm welcome Po!
So exciting to be a part of this

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