Tag Archives: poetry


In an unlit room,

Sat an unlit man

In an unlit suit

Writing his plan.

With an unlit smile

And an unlit laugh

And an unlit flourish

They’d feel his wrath.

So, with unlit ink

On an unlit pad

Into an unlit envelope

He’ll show them who’s mad.

But the unlit man

Made an unlit mistake

As he’d written in crayon

Oh, to miscalculate!



I lie on my back as the storm rages outside my darkening room

The rumble and clash of the pantheon’s percussion

Plays an unsteady beat through an electric atmosphere 

Children cower; birds take flight; the world quivers

But not me, for a new life is being born

I look deep into the pouring rain

Past the lightening bolts, beyond the trees, over the river and into the sky

Up into the roiling clouds I cast my mind and smile

As a trembling raindrop unfurls from the horde

Rolling from its cotton pillow it falls, and falls, and falls

Tumbling towards solidity

A tear created especially for me

Downwards it slides through intangible air

Faster and faster, sweeping the sky clean in its wake

I feel it nearing my home

Then, splat! 

I fear for my little friend, but I shouldn’t

He is gathering, rejoining his brethren

Becoming more than the sum of the parts

Cascading down roof tiles

Part of a torrent he sluices over the guttering

Hanging for a moment suspended in thin air

Before he and his ilk, fall

Down and down, tippling over and over 

A procession of hydro environmentalists

I listen to his and their sacrifice 

Giving their own lives to bring life to others

The flowers in my window-box bow solemly

I hear the pitter-patter of the rain on their petals

And wonder which was he?


I hear the clock strike two 

Only another five hours until morning

The moon is high and illuminates the room in spectral light

It is the same every month

How I miss you so

A rustling from the garden heralds the return of a fox

I envy him his freedom

To run in the night wild and free without constraint or master

Then silence

It is though the world freezes

The universe watches on impassively

And I hear it

The long howl of pain

The cry of what was once mine but now is lost

I ponder the whys and ifs as I do every full moon

Will she still remember me

Will she still care

Will she return

The clock ticks on 

My own malaise deepens

Whilst my love runs free

Only another few hours until morning

I’ll get the kettle on just in case

A Whisper to Grandpa

Some things will always be special

They can never be stolen away

Journeys where their care allowed you to sleep

Times where a smile meant more than gold

To be proud of who you are 

Not because of how you see yourself

But because of how they saw you

Swelling esteem from a nod and a wink

To be offered your favourite biscuit

A cup of tea when you need it most

Knowing they would never say no

Would always be there when others were not

A place of no judgement

Where you were always happy to be seen

A plaster for a scratch

Always an interest in what you’ve done

Who you’ve seen

But all things come to an end

Nothing lasts forever

It is how we look back and return the pride

How we smile at their memory

Wishing they were still with us

It is the dreams they appear in 

The loving voice in a forgotten memory

Thoughts of what was

Hopes of what could be

And wishing you’d had one last chance 

To whisper I’ll miss you


If I was a ripple, 

What ripple would I be?

Would I spread across a pond,

Or rage across the sea?

If I was a ripple,

Boundaries I’d abhor.

Would I lap against a riverbank,

Or break upon the shore?

If I was a ripple,

Would I find my way to you?

For you are what I ripple to,

My love, my life, my true.