Petra Banks adopted green always pretty forever seen This short rhyme was written in green chalk on a wooden noticeboard leading to the garden of the allotments It had been added to the noticeboard many years previously For reasons unknown it never aged or was washed away Even during the wettest of foul winters At […]

Mount Sinabung is erupting again But few complain As it stimulates the rain The much needed rain My island has lost its majestic glow But what do I really know The sky is awash With the white grey ash That settles on the sea And on the nearby beach And even on ships out of […]

Over forty years ago I sat on this lawn in front of the great cathedral as part of a church party I must confess I was bored We had been paired off and I was sitting with a girl called Julie Hawn She shared her sandwiches with me Cheese and tomato I explained to her […]

Coloured Glass The still water glistens and reflects the coloured glass The month of August is nearly spent But its light has not dulled   The Spanish Boy A Spanish boy asked me why the tower had not sunk into the Wiltshire marshes I explained to him that the cathedral was supported by foundations Blessed […]

The harvest has been drawn The fields are again sculptural Our days together have become shorter In the fading light You are reading Pascal In a shabby bus shelter My townspeople are in awe of you  

The swiftness of your visit surprises me You flirt with the ruinous towers As if you have chosen a winter’s home But your love is false Within weeks you will be on your way Gliding on the southern winds And I will remain here Alone in my occupation  

On my birthday you gave me a book A biography of a Yorkshire poet Who once visited the Ribblehead Viaduct I am standing in front of the massive structure Remembering those who died during its construction Some perished from disease and others were killed in industrial accidents A few just died from life’s exhaustion Many […]

When travelling on buses You often glance into the past Such moments are quite fleeting And not designed to last  

  Birthday They were walking hand in hand On the path Through the mint green flowers   They were walking hand in hand On the path Through the meadow gold buttercups   They were walking hand in hand On the path Through the ragged blue thistles   They were photographed with their grandfather As they […]

Peter Piper was the coxswain of the Peneth lifeboat In his twenty-five years of service he and his crew had saved many lives But many others had drowned The sea is a harsh mistress He would often say to people in the town She is often friendly but has a terrible temper when angered She […]