Thursday, 4 December 2014


The Classic family photo group
Lined up with siblings three
But the camera was too quick to shoot
So three were facing me
He should present a smiling face
To camera's waiting lens
But he's gazing at the camera case
Instead of at his friends
With anxious frown he's looking down
To see what has gone wrong
The other three are peering round
As he's taking much too long
So when the shot was fired away
Before we were all ready
Three faced to one who looked astray
And the image was unsteady
What's more the shot was focussed not
With edges somewhat furry
We were an unattentive lot
So it was distinctly blurry
The lesson here is loud and clear
For families in a flurry
When standing there with near and dear
Do not pose in a hurry

The Missing Shoe

The Missing Shoe
While driving along with the radio on
By the verge I saw a man's shoe
Which made me wonder to whom it belonged
And why there was one, and not two
This curious phenomenon is not so unusual
An odd single shoe by the road
Why throw out one shoe in a manner so casual
Is walking in one shoe the new mode?
A flipflop, a trainer, a sandal or boot,
Shoes appear to be chucked out at random
There are not so many folk with only one foot
So why do these people just one shoe abandon?
Perhaps a hiker developed a blister
Or trod on a thorn and found his sock torn
Or a verruca beginning to fester
Maybe the shoe was hurting his corn
Was the wearer beamed up by an alien force
And is now gazing downwards from space
Or found he preferred hopping to walking, of course
Or clumsily broke a shoe lace
This sight is not rare so its clear they don't care
About this lonely shoe's fate
And that where there was once a pair
This solitary shoe has lost his mate
Whatever the case and wherever the place
By the road when you see a lone shoe
Just there on its own where there should be a brace
Give pause to the question of why there aren't two

Friday, 11 July 2014

Paper Moon

Paper Moon
Across the firmament she rides
And rules the heavens, this silver queen
A paper moon she silently glides
Reigning benignly supreme
Remote, aloof with dignified mien
Reserved, the essence of tranquillity
Radiating her lucent gleam
Sailing the night sky into infinity
Detached, this muse, her surface seen
With cratered volcanoes long extinct
Mountains, valleys and lava stream
Far off still outlined quite distinct

As we gaze up so she looks down
With her cool hypnotic stare
Serenely regarding our earth below
Impervious to our mortal cares

Week by week she waxes and wanes
Gradually slipping behind earth's shadow
Once a month her full face revealed
Then diminishes to tender crescent narrow

Shedding her chilly radiance
She pulls our tides by gravitation
The rise and fall along the sea shore
Equalising the ocean's equation 

Gazing up at this distant being
Its hard to believe with the passage of time
Though detached she appears from human fears
Men walked that ground in 1969

Robber Baron - published Cambridge News 3 July 2014

Robber Baron
I thought I loved my blackbird
I thought he was my friend
I fed him dainty morsels
From Christmas to year's end
The poor bird seemed so thirsty
He hovered round the pond
Picking round and looking down
Beadily watching each frond
He stepped down upon a lily leaf
With neat precise and dainty skill
And seized a small amphibian
Then darted away with his kill
Its gilded belly was turned to the sun
It struggled in vain but had no where to run
The blackbird gripped his prey and sung
Then flew off in triumph to feed his young
He serenades me all day long
He croons with a beak full of food
But this blackbird has a blacker side
With living prey he feeds his brood
My garden's made for wildlife
In nature lies our roots
But that doesn't include this blackbird
Who is brazenly sealing my newts


Saturday, 21 June 2014

Of Mice and Men ....

Of Mice and Men
There's a vole in the house
Brought in by the cat
Or a shrew or a mouse
- Or it could be a rat
To resolve this dilemma
It must first be caught
At hiding they're clever
So the chase may be fraught
So nimbly it scuttles
In a dark spot to lurk
From shadows gleam a beady eye
A whisk of tail in the murk
Swiftly is zips across the floor
Like a living clockwork toy
Behind the sofa and under the door
To catch it requires a cunning ploy
It slips behind the bookcase
And in amongst the cables
With consummate ease it leads the race
To catch it you are quite unable
Picking it up is not advised
You shouldn't slip your hand beneath
This is a lesson to the wise
These creatures have needle sharp teeth
The answer's a plan both simple and neat
Lay out a wellington boot
The opening close to its whiskery nose
And in it will gratefully scoot
Now you must make a painful decision
To check that it is safe inside
Do you put in your hand to feel for its hide
And risk it being nipped with precision?
The moral is a simple one
As a vital vole accessory
Inside all well-ordered homes
Wellingtons are necessary

June sunshine...... Published Cambridge News 21 June 2014

June Sunshine
Where and Oh where has the June sun gone?
The skies remain cloudy and grey
A cold north breeze blows all day long
Of sunshine there isn't a ray
The bees are still searching for nectar and pollen
And scurry from flower to flower
But the lowering skies the summer belies
As the firmament threatens a shower
But the barley field ripples like silk in the wind
With ephemeral poppies scarlet stained
Wild roses arch with bryony twined
So waiting for summer will not be in vain
The soaring swallows are flying high
A tortoiseshell spreads his wings to bask
The air is pierced with swifts shrill cry
Apollo will glide from behind his mask
Apollo that mighty God now deigns
His beneficent rays to bestow
He has slipped his cloudy mask to reign
Over grateful earth below

Saturday, 31 May 2014

Daisy River - Published Cambridge News 19 June 2014

Daisy River
With warming sun and sudden showers
The garden is overflowing with flowers
Snapdragons, poppies, pinks and peonies
Sweet hesparis and columbine
Love in the mist and foxglove towers
Honeysuckle's blooms entwine
Clematis tendrils that mingle with roses
Mock orange and elder their scent combine
But best of all - though humble and small
My lawn has a river of daisies