Poems

The Plate

I was working with a writer as a writer. She was American and I British. So when she asked me if I was ready to stand at the plate I wasn’t sure what she meant....More

The Ant

Some things strike me as odd, or say things to me I do not understand. So this one tablet, and the one ant, caught my attention....More

Santhe

In the poem People, I mentioned that I found the answer in a baby reaching out to me. After twenty years I met that baby again as a young woman. But I didn’t know it untill we looked fully at each other, and again knew that wonder....More

Puddleworld

When we are children we have the most wonderful fancies. Unfortunately those fancies are often denied or we are told not to be stupid. Here is a childs fancy....More

People

At a time when I was very open and capable of exploring my depths and my heights, I called out to know what I had that was useful to others. And it was a strange journey, only to find the answer as a baby reached out to me....More

On the Death of my Mother’s Sister Cath

In praying for my aunt Cath, I faced a blank wall of no hope and no help. As I say – You are a false God, An ancient hope erected. And I turn from you Watching others cry That you are a faithful God. But my turning away is as difficult As the parting from my mother In my manhood And the death of ...More

More Eyes

I often watch people's reaction to each other. In a Welsh village I saw something so typical I have recorded it....More

Life and Death

When my father suddenly died without warning, I was on a bus home. There at a bus stop before where I needed to get off was my eldest son. He called me urgently off the bus and said, “Grandpa is dead.” I immediately started observing what I felt, and here is my experience of that day....More

Exhaustion

Sometimes, when working so hard physically to earn a crust, I felt exactly as I describe Dave to feel. What I felt that so lifted me was seeing my life overall instead of just the days toil and pain....More

Erica

Erica was a neighbour. I only had a couple of meaningful conversations with her, and this poem is build around one of them....More

Bob

Bob Grace was a farm worker who lived in a lean-to, or an old shed. He was an important part of my childhood. But this poem came about when I took my young son Mark to visit him....More

Bend in the Road

Here I have tried to put into words, quite inadequately, a childs love for his father. It still makes me cry now as I remember it. How can one deserve such love?...More

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