The photographer Bill Wilson once said That a camera will not understand a woman Until its lens has seen her quite naked In a way I agree with this And as a nature photographer I always go into the countryside Just as the dawn is breaking To capture the essence Oh her naked beauty

Viktor was facingThe railway viaduct An elongated thoughtHad begun to trouble him As he could seeBut not hear Trains As they passed Overhead His fiancee Julie Was wearing An Orange Dress

Viktor was facing A railway viaduct An elongated thoughtBegan to trouble him As he could see Rats drowning In the river sewer Viktor was very tall And stooped a little He was aware of this And it embarrassed him

Hollow in its echos The city was hot Unusually hot Its colours Had not Faded

I frequently see Black Nomads Passing my wilderness In the desert Of my dreams

We often visit The Old English Fort When we return from a swim Our clothes dry On the peaceful battlements Whist we relax in the sun It is a pleasant way To pass an afternoon

These are the end of days When the summer fades Whilst wearing her finest dress I have just collected Two red stone pebbles In celebration of the sinking sun

This small dusty book contains a poem Written by a slave owner and is an account Of the execution by hanging of one of his slaves Who was accused of brutally raping A white woman in her own house It was written just over two hundred years ago And is a fine and moving poem […]

I once owned a large slave ship At that time I was married to a white mermaid It was during one of these dark voyages That I was told about the black mermaids Who could be found in the southern seas I kept a look out for many years Without meeting Any of these alluring […]

See that guy over there Which one The guy selling the sunglasses What about him His name is Felix And he has been selling sunglasses There in front of the hotel For forty six years How do you know My father remembers him He looks pretty ancient That is because he is ill Is it […]