Sunday Afternoon

The long hours of the afternoon slither like a slow worm through warm grass. From the garden we hear the sounds of life that surround us, reminders that we are not alone. The distant traffic forms the back-beat of our daily soundtrack, but the overlays today include a parrot that imitates a mobile phone and… Read More Sunday Afternoon

Date Night

Poet would like to meet glass of red wine for quiet evenings at home. You must be warm and soft, country of origin not important, but interest in the arts and current affairs is desirable. I am about a pentameter tall, hair tending to grey, but jet black with a bit of poetic license. Recently… Read More Date Night

Tired Poem

This is a tired poem, in need of a long rest, a holiday. Tired poems tend to hang about together, looking for cigarette butts, swigging the dregs from discarded cans. Tired poems can’t be bothered to scan, they have no time to rhyme, no interest in being metaphorical, they are emotionally flat, intellectually vacant, literally… Read More Tired Poem