Poetry

MISSED OPPORTUNITIES

I misspoke for too long For a moment I thought You were actually interested In me and my words.   I misheard your words meaning nothing to me as they swept far above me far over my head.   I mistook the lies that left your Red lips with ease like a small...

Two poems that were accepted at an art exhibition in Torquay

MISSED OPPORTUNITIES I misspoke for too long For a moment I thought You were actually interested In me and my words.   I misheard your words meaning nothing to me as they swept far above me far over my head.   I mistook the lies that left your Red lips with ease like...

Le chagrin et la pitié

My father joined up in 1939 when he was 14 and towards the end of the war became a driver. He chauffeured a British General into Paris in 1944 and at first enjoyed the sights and sounds of a free city. But he was struck by the horror of the scene of a...

Christmas Lights

I dont know why, but I really like this poem. I know that it's silly, but that's the whole point:   Christmas Lights My true love stood in a cardboard box painted black with stars and moons glittering upon it. Around it she had described a dozen gifts so neatly...

Highcross

This is a poem I wrote whilst sitting in the sun in the Highcross. That day I wandered about Leicester and sat writing in various locales. Town Hall Square, St Margaret's Bus station and by the Clock Tower. I think most of the work is uploaded in the "Some of My...

My First Commission

I was awarded an Arts Council-funded Sole2Soul commission, 2014. Sole2Soul is funded by Arts Council England and commissioned by Leicester County Council. It is one of six project commissions for an umbrella project entitled ‘Click, Connect, Curate Create’. In the...

Two World War I Poems

Thoughts of a VAD: Lapugnoy 1917 It was the screaming. I could put up with most things and to be honest I had done so these past few months. The sound of the bombs didn’t really faze me nor the constantly falling rain and cloying mud. The fleas I found in my hair or...

Vismarkt Utrecht

Its early May. The scent of coffee and Mint Tea hangs in the air. Tourists lost and found the Dom around the corner waiting. Colour is muted the weather too. Faces downcast though children laugh. Cyclists rushing fizzing hustling past my seat as I sip my latte and...

Going Home

My mother died nine months ago my Dada thinks she’s asleep upstairs And wonders where his children are the ones who moved out years ago. He knows he lives here in this house, but wonders where his home is. On the hill I know, but when can I move in he asks? I know...

Some of my poems

Sonnet to Ash Blonde Love Seriously, she had unbelievable Amounts of ash blonde Hair on her head. Balanced like A meringue but that sounds Rude and ugly but she wasn’t Either. She was beautiful her Ash blonde hair crown on angel Face with lips bright red and Twinkling...