THE WORLD ABOUT ME

Nature, animals, places, things - anything out there really

RABAT, MALTA

We've seen Mdina atop its hill Rabat is waiting for us still, So leave behind its age-old stones Its horses, bells and cicerones.[1] ***** Walk past the "Bacchus" restaurant[2]

BOXES, BUNDLES, BAGS

A charity shop Just one of many hundreds But this is the one I work in Midst boxes, bags and bundles. Every day donations come In every shape and size Books & knickknacks, shoes & clothes

THE WHALE

A whale swims through a surging sea, His soul's unfettered, his spirits's free. There are no foes for him to face None that is save the human race. A whaler ploughs the plunging main,

RIVENDELL REFLECTION

I just spent a meditation weekend at Rivendell Retreat Centre in East Sussex. Whilst sitting on a seat in the extensive & beautiful grounds I wrote this poem ( www.rivendellretreatcentre.com )

ST PAUL'S CATACOMBS, RABAT, MALTA

In the Maltese town of rabat are the catacombs where - the Romans buried their dead - I hope this poem conveys some of the incredible atmosphere

WORCESTER CATHEDRAL

Cross the road at Sidbury lights Then say goodbye to temporal sights, 'Neath Edgar Tower, past College Green A passage that leads to a gentler scene.

FULL MOON

The silver light Of full moon bright Fights off the night-time dark, It weaves a shroud On leaves that cloud The trees that crowd the park. Within its gleam The babbling stream

FORESTS

Do you see the mighty forests With their sense of ages past? Of all who've shared their presence Are we to be the last? Man cuts down the forests Not always with just cause

OCEAN

Waves break on a sandy shore In a ceaseless seasaw motion, In & out, and in & out A heartbeat in the ocean. The sea looks kind and gentle Lapping gently on the beach,

SEASCAPE

This is the first poem I ever wrote, must be 25 years ago. I was softer then...

ROCKS

The rocks stand in the water Like a moonscape come to earth, They stand there in defiance As they're pounded by the surf. An arrogance surrounds them As waves brake on their sides,

THE FOGHORN

The night is fog enshrouded The foghorn sings its tune, In the dark, like some great wolf That serenades the moon. It calls to night-time sailors And keeps them to their path,

WINTER SCENE

A combination of shoe and the inclement weather have inspired me to write this poem

MDINA, MALTA

Perched on high atop its hill The "Silent City" is far from still, (1) Cathedral bells in strident tones Seem to shake its age-old stones. In a cool and shaded street

WORCESTER WEATHER

This is a very tongue in cheek dig at the weather in Worcester. I fell in love with the place four years ago and I still love it now, only more so.
Cherry

EYES UPON THE GROUND

Some walk with eyes upon the sky Well my friends that is not I, I walk with eyes upon the ground Here new insights can be found….. The pavement forms an urban skin

SEPERATED AT BIRTH (I.P.)

A second, and lighter, response to this week's inspiration point
Cherry

THE SEVEN AGES OF [A SICK PERVERTED] MAN (Warning, may cause offence)

In response to Danrama's forum topic on censorship I raised the issue of self-censorship and the fear of writing in the first person. This poem is one I was previously loath to post.

SUNNY SPELLS

My last two post were heavy, the last two days were cold, here’s a bit of nonsense from my archive to put us in mind (hopefully) of other things

Suburban Sundarban

A neighbour's cat like a downsized ginger tiger prowls a suburban sundarban. Nimbly negotiating narrow fence tops, those oft trod trails of a square cut, creosoted jungle,

Notes From A Stroll Before Breakfast

A solitary flower White against the green, Radiant and virginal Naturally pristine. A lofty weathered oak tree Wears a wrinkled skin, Age is written on its bark Strength lies locked within.

Eyesores I Saw

I passed a pool of puke today When down the street I strode, Why not use the gutter That runs twixt path and road? Scant yards on a second splash Caused me to check my stride,