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on Ukraine
There are those still at homeThere are those a long way from homeThere are those fighting for their homesThere are those dying in their homesThere are those who are grieving for their homesThere are those making new homesThere are those longing to return home~ CLP 20/10/2025 →
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on the rails
There was once a race out westBetween the canal diggersAnd the railway buildersCutting the way through fieldsHedges and ancient woodsThe blades of spades cutting turfBuilding embankments from the spoilsPicks hollowed out the hills for tunnelsTunnels that would be threaded throughBy steel rails, laid on sleepersThat woke sleepy west country folkGave them dreams of somewhere elseTowns →
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On the slots
Afterwards, our hands felt dirtyThe tuppenny pieces had rattled from our handsChinged bells, clattered into the piles of coinsTo little noticeable effectThe five pound note still clung to the shelfDangling a worthwhile returnPutting a cap on how many coins we rolled through the slotsMost of what went in fell outWent back inNot free tuppences, just →
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on autumn
a grey pallblankets the fieldsthe rough work of the plough has been broken downthe shallow tines of the field harrow have left a lined tilthacres of dry, dun soil home to a harean anxious family of deerstooped crows pockmark the earthplucking leather-jackets from the crumbsstaggering left then rightthe oaks watching from the margindiscard an occasional →
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on Ukraine
We can hear them cheeringThrough the chaosIn this cacophony of sirens, drones, bombs, rocketsWe fight on with their tears pooling around our feetWe shake with their griefWe understand their anxietyTheir fear of failureIs it really happening?If they can stop in Gazawhen will we?~ CLP 11/10/2025 →
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on the wind
A southerly brings warm airA wild stuttering windCrows and jackdaws are loving itLaunching themselves into itRising from the oaks on itLifted by gustsWheeling round the rain stained crown for moreA ragged flock in black tumbleBelow the scudding grey stream of cloudAbove the autumnal pallet of the lane’s arboreal borderThey fly a broken line across the →
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on time
I’ve pondered the matter of lifeLimited as it must beIs there life on Saturn’s moons?How would we know?Evidence of life this far outComes not from twitching organismsNot from a pulseNo morse like messageG, A, F (low), F (high), CIt comes from the decaying remainsA trail of decompositionEmitted from the arse of EnceladusA constant outpouring of →
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on the wing
autumn’s nights shortenhirondelles departedRAF patrol~n.b. There is a noticeable increase in air force activity, by day and night. CLP 30/09/2025 →
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on Ukraine
while shepherds watched their flocks by nightmothers slept by their childrenfathers fought out in the fields holding back the Orcsthe vile and cowardlylaunched missiles and dronesat slumbering urban homesdistractions abound broadbordering on the insanedistractiondisruptiondestructionmore sleeping children slain~ CLP 29/09/2025 →
Journey of Words 