The Barbary Knife

Do not know where this poem came from. I must have been shivering me timbers off somewhere after being caught in a squall😄. I’ve never been to the Barbary coast in my life, my ancestors, a few being sailors, probably did though. I have got a fascination with the sea and ships so maybe the

The Secret Garden

Another haiku from my End of Days series. No, partygate will not be gotten rid of, forgotten nor forgiven. They partied whilst people died alone. The secret garden 24 hour party people Stage their own lock in. The threshold of No.10 where 24 hr people disappear, only to emerge as amnesiacs with peerages and promotions.

Book Review: ‘The Silent Companions‘ by Laura Purcell

The first book I have read in absolutely ages. I have made a resolution to read books which have been piling up for ages. At last I have managed to get my concentration back by reading a little per night. Before I knew it, I began to get absorbed again into the pages, just like

Ps. Pm…

Part of my series ‘End of Days’. Each new day feels like exactly that, the end of life as we once knew it. With endless atrocities deceitful lies, corruption and scandal after scandal ever unfolding, we are indeed living in dark times. So many ‘gates’ of evil opening, all leading to a desolate landscape. ‘Partygate’

The Runaway Train

Carrying on the back track Yet another train of lies Are Shunted northwards The runaway mouth ran over the hill and he blew it. Again. Unfortunately, the last I heard he was going still… Yet another empty promise for the North. The abandonment of HC2. Second in my new occasional series ‘End of Days’ where

Elastoplast for the Past

Slipping behind again with my blogs again. Where does the time go🤔 When I first started my blogs up, the plan was to post a few times a week. So much for plans🙄 I’d have been better off doing a diary (as I write in that every day. Anyway… here’s a short poem I wrote

Dark Queen

I wrote this poem a while ago.  I’d like to say that the inspiration fro this came from some sort of gothic queen I had been reading about, but it didn’t.  The kind of person I envisage is one who waits, listens, sees an opportunity and uses situations to their own advantage.  She sits quietly

Selected Poem: ‘Whatifs’ by Shel Silverstein

In these days of uncertainty, made even more so in this present climate , I think everyone can relate to this poem. ‘Whatfs’ is a playful poem relating to our own personal fears and writtten imaginatively from a child’s point of view by American poet, artist, cartoonist and playwright Sheldon Allan Silverstein (September 25, 1930 –

‘The Road to Domestos (with or without mop bucket)’ part 1

‘Something shifted today Something I thought I’d lost But had simply gone astray I found that I had gotten over The pale goodbyes – those white cliffs of Dover Something shifted today. I can’t go on hating And actually participating With this wall of resounding pain. No gain. Lynda M Roberts 2020 This poem was

Finding my senses (poem)

Making sense of it all