Winter’s Gift

Now summer’s leaden blanket lies shredded
Extended shadows spread their creeping chill
Excoriated earth parched and weathered
Cloaked in misty pall, unheralded, still.
Branches once clothed in luscious feath’ry green
Now curl in withered spindly self-pity
Silent fragility, the new crowned queen
Barren and stark her own kind of pretty.
Then studded across this landscape of brown
Jewels and gems are witnessed to flourish
Orange and red, the bright hues of sundown
The soul with their vibrancy to nourish.
This bare season’s beauty, joy to the heart
Winter’s sweet flow’ring the hope for restart.



Red is the chair in which I sit

Red is the bag that I carry

The ink in my pen

The paint on my wall

Lipstick and cushions and cars

Red is my go-to

My love-heart

My smile

My roses, my sunrise, my joy

Red is the blood that was shed

Red is the wine I drink

She Swallowed



She swallowed

with water

her little green pill.

And with it a rainbow which makes up her day

Kaleidoscope colours of joy or despair.

A leash on the black dog pursuing her thoughts

a lid on the pit of her pain.

But a string on the kite of her delirious laughter

a ceiling preventing her soar.


She swallowed

with water

her little green pill





A poem

at its simplest

Is rain in drought

Oceans in desserts

Peace in storms


It’s summer’s first cricket

Mid-winter’s owl

Spring’s early blossom

Day’s end’s full moon.


This poem

at its simplest

Is my soul unmasked

Essence spilt

Incense rising

Myself, my heart, me.

Collins Rhyming Dictionary


Yay, it’s time to rhyme,

she cried, as reaching for her trusty tome

she set herself to write a po’m.


Where to start whilst sounding smart

What to write and hence impart

To my faithful counterpart?


Begin with ‘ay’, progress to ‘zed’

Just enter the fray, where it can’t be unsaid.


So, ‘A’ is for apple and ‘B’ is for babble

‘C’ gives us camel whilst ‘D’ offers dabble

and ‘E’ is entangled in the fractal of ‘F’.

‘G’ is the gamble but ‘H’? Time to haggle.

The ‘I’ offered here is quite insubstantial

while ‘J’ sneaks right in like ‘The Day of the Jackal’.

‘K’ could be ‘kackle’ if ‘L’ keeps us lateral

but by ‘M’ it’s becoming a tangle.

‘N’, for some reason, welcomes Nathaniel.

And ‘O’ doesn’t work, it’s far too orig’nal

whereas ‘P’ gives permission to prattle.

‘Q’ has the grace of a perfect quadrangle

which for ‘R’ does seemingly rankle.

‘S’, is of course, away playing Scrabble

but poor ‘T’ gets caught in a terrible tangle.

‘U’ will unscramble for ‘V’, its own vassal

making ‘W’ wrangle with ‘X’ for the axle.

Leaving ‘Z’ till the end with a big razzle-dazzle!

A Riddle

A Riddle


In a field there lay

haphazardly spread-eagled

a man.

Unmoving, unbreathing, un…


Beyond the reach of wax-like grasp

a parcel rests.

Neat, compact, pre-wrapped.


Around this scene of unknown death

though muddied is the ground

no footfall may be observed

nor any other sign

of external interference.


What, I ask, has here transpired?

What this the consequence of?

How did this hero of our story

end up, face down,

          lying in a field?