In

Violet

John Paul Kirkham

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Cover image: In Violet by Jan Kalinski

 First published in Great Britain in 201

Copyright © 2011 John Paul Kirkha

This specially curated 10th anniversary
6th edition published 202

The moral right of the author has been asserted in

accordance with the Copyright,
Designs and Patents Act 198

All rights reserved

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a
retrieval system or transmitted in any form, or by any
means, without the prior permission in writing of the author

www.johnpaulkirkham.co.u
.

 There are gems here

Poetry Spac

These poems are beautiful and the collection has the

intriguing quality of an autobiographical set of poems.

In particular, I love the fact that the poems evoke a

sense of place and yet the places written about are so

disparate and con icting, e.g contrasting 'A Suffolk

Summer' with the poems about the war-torn East.

There's a sense of yearning in the poems that refer to the

past, e.g. 'Bury'. I also love the simplicity of a short

poem such as 'Absent from a Friend's Wedding'.

Catherine Chapman - Smashword

I am once again struck by the child-like wonder in them

… refreshing … endearing … many of them are

ravishingly beautiful in their simplicity and accuracy.

David Price - A Master Class

e

fl

 The poetry is like a gentle breeze that caresses the face

and tousles the hair slightly. Sometimes the words

create a storm of emotions so intense, that the reader

will be forced to sit up and read again and again and

again

★★ ★ ★ ★ A.G Chauderi - Shining Daw

An entertaining and touching rea

Fran Macilvey - Scottish Book Trus

Stimulating, thought provoking, endearing, rousing

every sensation that poetry should evoke within the

reader. They made me laugh, cry or just feel the beauty

and raw emotion behind the words. Amazing

Lauren Drew - Canadian Journalist

This is a beautiful antholog

Jessica Jade Burton - The Library Living

.

 Introductio

This collection of poetry includes works from the 1970s

up to the present day and those poems which have

factually based themes were historically true in the

period they were written as in Sarajevo.

The reader will nd on these pages a revealing eclectic

mix of poems that are autobiographical, nostalgic,

environmental, occasionally lyrical, re ective and

thought provoking. The poetic style varies throughout

and placing the work alphabetically allows the reader to

discover things in a more spontaneous way

Born in the 1950s, growing up in Merseyside, training at

the Laird School of Art and as a photographer in

Liverpool, the north west of England is a special place

with hints to nostalgia that can easily be identi ed in

poems such as I Dreamed of Going to Sea

As a photographer, capturing the environment’s light or

bleakness has always been a fascination and likewise

with poetry whether it’s Ghosts of the Atlantic or the anti

war allegory The Punt Gunner there is something visual

n

fi
.

fl
fi
 about verse that can make a stark or abrasive subject

appear serene

Blake Morrison (poet and author) once interviewed me

for a feature in the Sunday Independent Magazine and I

ended up being a real life character in one of his stories

in the book “Too True”. This taught me more than ever

that real people have a place in poems and nearly all of

those in my work truly existed like Lawrence and Mr

Moon.

So as photography frames an image, poetry transforms

the mind and whilst we think we see and understand

what we see, the mystery and intrigue are sometimes at

the fringes of the scene; so when we look at a beautiful

panorama we see in clear shades of blue skies or green

landscapes but right in the corners or the edge of the

spectrum lies violet, barely discernible but there just the

same
.

John Paul Kirkham is a poet, writer, photographer living in

the city of Liverpool and is the author of 18 books and

collaborations including the autobiography “I Saw Her

Standing There” and a second collection of poetry “Zig Zag

Road” and is the of cial biographer of two Italian saints:

Clare of Assisi and Gemma Galgani of Lucca. John Paul has

written journal editorial, lm and book reviews and has

appeared both on television and radio

Thank yo

To Bryter Layter - The Estate of Nick Drake for allowing

the reproduction of lyrics within the front and end pages

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.

 Prologu

A day once dawned, and it was beautifu

A day once dawned from the groun

Then the night she fel

And the air was beautifu

Night she fell all aroun

So look see the day

The endless coloured way

Go play the game that you learn

From the mornin

(Nick Drake: From The Morning

Lyrics reproduced by permission of Bryter Layte

e

A Game of Football (aka The Tin Whistle

Not far from Grange roa

there’s a park and a fiel

where they play Sunday leagu

all proper and skille

we went for a strol

me and my Gra

just around the corne

with mothers and pram

Whilst watching the team

I blew my tin whistl

the players stopped dea

annoyed and puzzle

the referee in blac

furious and wil

screaming "you bugger

where is that child

d

I tried to look innocen

but ready for a mau

then Gran said ever so calml

"pick on someone your own siz

after all, its only a game of football

l

 A New Clear Da

The early morning clear violet sky turned suddenly

brighter than a thousand sun

People caught, fraught, unawar

running in the dust of a blistering hea

odours arose to dull the sense

a pain, a poundin

and then ……. seren

Aberfa

I was seven when you were seve

as the wild winds carried away saddening voice

Slowly, slowly as I sleep at night toda

I dream less and less of that charcoal clou

But in the stillness of the darkened skie

I know the silent souls of the little ones found their peac

Winking and flaxen in the first blush of sunris

beneath stumbled slopes

and the soft Arcadian sepulchre row

the candescent bronze dawn gently reveal

after mist essence rain, the Spring daffodil

respectfully genuflecting to those reunited in their

deepest slumbe
n

Absent from a Friends Weddin

On this a special marriage da

I will be seven thousand miles awa

So from some far flung eastern shor

I wish you well and love some mor

y

After Midnigh

The sun goes dow

the city is dar

The damp streets are silen

a cold wind blow

A lonely stranger

walks o

looking for someone

to love

All for an Empir

All for an empir

loyalty and lie

setting sail by the moo

at the turn of the tid

Battles in the sand dune

fought for an empir

landings at daw

thrusting forth the sons fir

Charging and crawlin

through wire and trenche

all for an empir

and hearts that are wrenche

All those left behin

touched no more and the reason wh

all for an empir

a plume of ash in a blue sk

s

Arabian Night

The 2.00 am skies are clear as we descen

fairytale lights punctuate the nigh

sparkling off white minarets and marble dome

shimmering on the waters of the Gul

Excited and tired many passengers resis

the adventure in transi

and prefer to sleep whilst others reap their bargain

from within these caves of Aladdi

The doors open to the deser

a hot furnace wind wallows round the apro

tonight its Dubai, last time Sharja

and alas Abu Dhabi and Bahrai

the rules are always the sam

Duties done announcements are mad

“Please go back now to the plane

and those brave explorers of the night retur

clutching their clinking carton treasur

s

Time at last to settle down to sleep perchanc

and gently drea

and ascend into a distant ruby tinged daw

as the Emirates drift and fad

with the rising of the su

m

 Arian

A foreign land times are har

Politician’s shuffle card

east or west has a better han

what about the people in a foreign lan

A highway heading north leads to heave

a child puts a rose in an AK4

the days are cold the skies are blu

there is a man on the mountain watching yo

People queue all day for a loaf of brea

a soldier’s belly’s full with a piece of lea

Ariana waits with her DC1

she's the last one out with the all the president’s men
a

Arm in Alm

Arm in arm, lets arm an arm

arming theirs, harming our

Are we the hosts? or are we the hostiles

selling arms and preaching peac

Alms for the poor, arms for the powerfu

listen to the man for anything is possibl

Fighting for a cause or dancing for your maste

fuel for our engines to drive us to disaste

A man of peace talks to liberat

whilst forces wait to seal his fat

There are plenty of shells but no mother of pear

as we follow a light to the end of the world

s

Autumn

As autumn gathers round the meadow fai

the smell of wood smoke fills the ai

The heather turns crimson, berries cherry re

teardrops like diamonds in a spider’s we

An auburn landscape slowly yellow

farmers gather in the long tall shadow

As dusk dances on sienna fringed leave

a golden orb silhouettes the tree

Avalanche Seen From a Dam at Kapru

On top of the world across a mirror glass lak

a faint tremor sound

The sun melts the spire

of ice and sno

as it turns into a tumbling whoos

The avalanche, a sliding cascad

crashing into crystal blue water

an echo ……….. then silenc

w

Bangkok Blue

Blurting a cacophony of nois

phut phut tuk tuk chariots to driv

Inhale the blue polluted haz

rising at dusk as smoky wave

s

Beneath the Surface Lie

Those who polish their car at night in Novembe

in the dark have many secret

Those who sit patiently at traffic light

are caught in impassive emotion

Those who observe those

will never kno

w

 Bruge

Church spires and tall brick tower

ringing bells chime the hour

Silent twisting cobbled stone lane

dark beers, chocolate and lac

s

 Bur

From the end of Grange roa

we would often take the bus up to the Roc

alighting to the smell of them black pudding

floating like bloated hose

in huge steaming cauldron pot

on a Saturday morning under tarpaulin canva

on a busy Bury marke

Then to Sam Taylor's toy stor

a treat to explor

wide wooden stair

glass cases with aw

containing treasures and mor

or summat promised to m

The moist days that often seemed like most day

made the soggy garden too sad to play out i

the only games would be dominoes and cards at the tabl

and coal rescued from the drizzl

y

would cough, spit and his

so a teaspoon of gran’s gin kept at bay the damp chills

On match day at Gigg Lane rickety turnstiles cranke

the creaky wooden stand benches where home to the fan

rain coated, flat capped and smoking old me

watching the "Shakers" the best game in the lan

Gran’s shop on the corner

sold lucky bags and sherbet dip

Cadbury's Bar 6 and much later the Twi

then skip over the old railway bridge

to Elton reservoir and breeze rippled wave

distant grey dinghy’s with bobbing white sails

legs dangled on the water slapped wal

where my father chiseled his name in 194

On Sundays a visit to Granny Grimshaw

and her sister Ma

in the Radcliffe flats on the council estat

y

greeted by the smell of gas on the ho

kettle whistling awa

to play contented with the ashtra

the one with the butto

propeller like centre for fag ends a dungeo

Auntie May would tell me tales of her life in the twentie

of far away exploits and romance in the Fiji'

South Pacific adventures and Island native

then returning home to a landscape of chimney

clutching hand tinted pictures of dreams forsake

a box of memories, letters and proposals untake

y

Butterfl

Stinging nettle

singing boy

with nets on pole

they capture soul

of little angels

with coloured wing

who gently whispe

don't crush my hear

oh! can't you se

our time is shor

please set me fre

y

Cheese on Toas

I used to live of

cheese on toas

simply melted under the gril

hot and gooey giving the taste buds a thril

Today it’s a trendy panini and flatbrea

or two artisan slices welded togethe

with a molten pepper pesto roas

how I long for cheese on toas

t

 Chelsea Pensioner in a Chinese Restaurant

in Greenwic

Sitting alone in a corner of “The Vietnam Restaurant

I thought it was Father Christma

he looked like Father Christmas anywa

Dakota red coat, cuff trims and bushy bear

I heard him order a pork bun dim su

and some more, sweet and sou

I wanted to thank him fo

ghting fo

in a wa

but I somehow got distracte

by his arriving plate of hot sizzling bee

Well done, well cooked I sa

not like meat that drips bloo

he’s probably seen enough of tha

fi
r

I struggled to guess his ag

calculating by wars fough

Sword Beach, Korea or Aden mayb

As I was leaving I sneaked a farewell pea

over my left shoulde

of a Chelsea Pensioner in a Chinese Restaurant

in Greenwic

keeping warm in a corne

with his memories of far ung eastern place

or a jungle perhap
h

fl
t

China Sta

Rhyme and song the dragon near

China wakens people’s fear

rhyme and song the lion’s danc

torches light Hong Kong hand

Midnight approaches seconds awa

China's elders on parad

midnight falls red flag haule

for the Governor departure call

As fireworks celebrat

the edge of an empire slips awa

r

City of the Dea

Tenant’s of the tenement tomb

lying under lichen gree

liken the

to a merchants drea

Beneath the dark granite Mossman ston

where legions froz

Glaswegian’s roa

in circumspect solitud

Mausoleums weather beate

old empire decaying grilled museum

toil now soil thy rich beques

angels guard the souls at res

in this the great Necropoli

the memorial City of the Dea

e

 Come

A clear April nigh

amid the sky and stars so brigh

there gleamed a come

haloed by a misty tail of whit

captured from afar a ligh

a streak and stream of paled glar

now and in ten thousand year

t

Conversation with a Ghos

It was that Jubilee summer of 7

and despite several misty Mersey morning

Liverpool was preparing to receive a Quee

My task, to shoot the pas

recording the architectural nuance splendour

of wood panels and light of an empty Birkenhead

Central Librar

A casually dressed handsome young man from an era

distant appeared and was captivated b

my contraption on stilts and he mused

“well I say this is quite marvellous for 1935, just last year the

King opened this place and everything was just … well so bi

what does it do?

I replied “It captures you

y

 Our parallel chat across forty years revealed we ha

just down the roa

a mutual abod

the Villa Arcadia in the par

which inspired the builders of New Yor

Later that day frame by fram

I searched in negative vai

to nd a trace but only found perfectio

of vintage oak and glas

The only proo

the only trut

the memory of my brief conversation with a ghos

fi
h

Convocation in Cambridg

A cold bright and sunny morning in Ma

families dressed to the nines like a wedding parad

In Caius College square stands a rosemary tre

defying the years standing wise valiantl

Measurements taken for hundreds of gown

red hemmed and purple the cream of our town

The queue finally moves towards the great hal

creaky benches and chairs within academic wall

Hours of Latin from masters with eas

a thankful reciting and decrepitation of knee

To spectate the partaker rise in elatio

clutching the parchment at their convocatio

e

 Cou

A so called bloodless coup leaves a bloody mes

neighbours watch with interes

Passports and tourists airlifted to safet

the rest the innocent eventually waste

Borders closed there is no solutio

only years of war and revolutio

Mortars and rockets overhea

children huddle together on rags for bed

Those left behind will never thriv

each day a race, a battle to surviv

p

Curriculum Vita

If all one achieve

can be written on a pag

is the sheet worth mor

or does its value decline with ag

s

Dawlish Before the Great Storm Cam

This day in Ma

Brunel’s tracks are and tunnels are still as saf

from wind and rain and dirty grey crested wave

crashing and splashing through iron rail

when gulls squawk and rise above the diesel engine

ticking and humming of the Great Wester

The black swans preen mid strea

in ballet trance along the brookish Daw

and trail in vanity with lipstick beaks in petulant pout

Permian orange sandy cliffs and sad worn sea face

peer over star crossed lovers who beam and drea

as wild violet’s await a longed for arrival or departur

y

 Death of My Fathe

My ageing father is in his nal throe

in the critical care uni

and we have been summoned to see him one last tim

he is hanging on to see us before letting g

he ghts now to prolong his last la

and survive for one more da

as each ascending hour of breath brings more pai

and he wishes no more to go on any longe

The East Midlands train from Liverpool to Norwic

that is carrying us to him crosses a lifetim

as its diesel engines shuttle, puff and belch slowly for

ve hours across thirteen countie

The at midwinter fenland

that my old dad knew so well these last nineteen year

look forlorn and barre

the wind turbines stand silent, still and mournful under

greying skie
fi
fi
fl
s

fi
s

 The elds once more at Welney are ooded

bathing the stark skeletal tree

aged stumps leaving their mark on this weary

landscap

The Chaplain came to see him late last nigh

and after 83 years of unbelief

he makes peace with God at the en

he remembers clearly his own grandads deat

when he was given half a crown

to spend on summat goo

And last night he said his own dad who died 50 years

ago came to hi

and is ready and waiting to take him hom

this entreaty made him weep for the rst tim

as we wobbled and welled up as well at the bedsid

The nurses turned a blind ey

as we smuggled in a bottle of Adnams Lighthouse pale

ale as a last reques

fi
e

fl
fi
e

“I have need of nothing now” you say after all your years

of hoardin

“take it all or give it to the Red Cross in black sack

all my shoes and neatly packed shirts, jumpers and jacket

unless you nd a at cap that ts

No more, only the memories of all that retail therap

at John Lewis and TK Maxx as you would always as

“is this a good buy lad clutching another bottle of cologne to

add to your collection

Your hands are quite warm, it’s mine that are col

as we clasp them togethe

in thanks for all your suppor

and helping us out with new telly’

meals out and such lik

for giving more and taking nough

but my grumpiness sometime

fi
g

fl
”

fi
t

Malcolm your grey blue ca

who strayed over your threshold three years ag

looked desperately sad as he watched you taken away

in the ambulance never to return to the bungalo

today he mooched about eating crumbs from the carpe

that had tumbled off my Greggs egg and cress butt

before climbing, curling and sleeping again on your

faded brown leather chai

You have made sure that your nal wishes are to b

cremate

wearing an eccentric bobble ha

the one that took the chill off your hea

in the air-conditioned critical care roo

and to hold in your hand

a rosary blessed by the Pope from Fatima

that I had just given you as a comforte

d

fi
t

If you hadn’t broken your tibia as the Lancashire

League’s leading score

just before you were about to sig

for Manchester Unite

would you have survived Munich

Instead you became an England armchair manage

shouting and kicking instructions at the TV scree

If you hadn’t helped design the Vulcan bomber and

Cold War nuclear bunker

and worked with asbestos and other dodgy dust

would you have survived the lung disease that claims

you now

When you hold a dying persons hand

they appear translucent … glowin

so dad nally departed this life, this winte

completing his journey into the Ligh

comfy and cosy at the las

…. asleep no

with his grey and white stripey bobble ha

fi
?

Death of My Mothe

We had made the same journey by trai

just two years earlie

then it was against winter’s bleak charcoal laden

landscap

to lay my dad to res

now it’s June and the elds are swollen with spinach

and tattie

just about ready for the McCains frozen chip factor

lying and frying between Peterborough and Marc

As the same East Midlands train chugs slowl

under the wide silent fenland skie

itself in its last throe

as it has just lost its franchise bi

for stealing staff pensions awa

we puff past paddocks and sentinel's of white wind

turbine

the elements are kind toda

as blades swish laconicall

s

fi
y

 and diminish into the quiescent atland

nally we spot our landmark ahead

Mr. Moons old windmil

for grinding daily his wheat and cor

We are a long way from Besses O’The Barn, Lancashir

with its brass band and record breaking cold winter of

1933, the year you were bor

and the Salford bus stop were you broke a heel and you

met our dad

who offered to x it with his engineering skills and

resin glu

a lifetime of stories discovered after deat

nding your legacy of tales and love letters to Jac

hidden in a drawer’s of old envelopes from 60 years ag

Home was life in those gritty northern street

your dad was a good friend of Lowr

and posed bowler hat and red pocket handkerchief

“The Man on a Bench”, “The Man on a Wall” and

“Piccadilly Gardens”
fi
fi
e

fi
l

fl

 I wish you could have cadged one of those painting

of matchstick men and dogs, markets, match days and

pram

Spanish and Irish ancestry gave you restless energie

pulling pints, selling fountain pens at T.J. Hughe

a spot of nursing and catering for Alvin Stardus

was it your craziness for hoarding Mars bars and a taste

of Scotlands nest grai

that helped you beat cancer twic

only to succumb to a broken heart that even Papworth

couldn't

Your long days concluded not ghting and raging

against the nigh

or the approaching encircling gloo

but at dawns early ligh

after a bowl of porridge and a cuppa te

sitting quite calmly in your armchair watching the

sunris
s

fi
x

fi
t

fi
a

holding with affection your companion cat Malcolm’s

Russian blue pa

as you slipped silently away on Mother Mary’s Church

Feast Da

peace … now that your earthly challenges and labours

are over

Malcolm nally appeared from his solitary hiding place

to see off the hears

from the end of the gravel driveway one last tim

You asked for bright colours

so our funeral cavalcade follows in a dayglo orange

Volkswagen caddy va

winding through those lazy Suffolk lane

past the old country pubs where you feasted on lasagne

and salad with chips in Chippenha

you witnessed the 20th century transform for better or

worse around yo

but you remained unchange

fi
w

 Is it our faith that has brought us all here toda

whether that is simply faithful memorie

faithful friendshi

faith in God … or faith in the journey that lies ahea

And so as the veil closes in the Risby Chapel of stone

and oak to “Let it Be”

a nod to my home town Liverpoo

you start your trip to the Ligh

wearing your pink dress and pink shoe

with a neatly folded blue silk hanky in your pocke

your right hand clutching my mended broken rosar

entwined with your favourite vintage tortoiseshell

com

oh yes … and in your left hand

a jumbo Mars Bar to be reunited with da

b

 Diana

You lived with the spring of yout

and glided through the days of summe

But autumn colours of sunset gol

will never now be yours to hol

The flowers will blanket and comfort yo

from winters ice and sno

and the future shivering year

As jasmine bloom

we will think of yo

as death brought an angels vie

and we suffer your sorrow to

Beneath willowed tree

and royal oa

surrounded by an island moa

you slumber dee

beneath the fallen leave

 Eurosta

St. Pancras terminus concave and steel

silvered and sparkling upwar

to a glass canopied crysta

Eurostar’s stand streamlined in row

yellow tippe

a match waiting to ignite pulls away slowly

almost silent in its shushin

 Everyone Knows Penny Lan

I happened upon a stretch of quiet beac

the mantis green palms ayed lightly in an uncertain

breez

the course abrasive sand now cooling in the early

evening under a purple sky broodingly framing a round

tangelo su

slowly setting over the striated etched horizo

and the South China Se

I sat upon a clutch of rocks worn to a smooth hollo

by centuries of the gorging tide coming and goin

behind me a small array of attap houses on stilts stood

stil

from which a Malay family took to the wate

laughing and splashing in the foaming sur

swiping from the air and feasting on the live leapin

sweet translucent prawn

l

fl
e

 They seemed careless carefree and simply happ

in worn cotton shorts and torn tee shirts apping like

ag

As the wind turned eastwar

they stepped out of the waist high waves to

acknowledge m

with a smile and greeting word

“Wer fom

I normally just say UK …. it’s easier someho

but this evening, thoughts turned to what home i

and where home wa

“Liverpool” I say causing arms to wildly splay and

displa

and in turn a broken English reply

“aaah Penneee Wane, Stwar … bwee Feel”

fl
s

fl
w

Exmout

Phear Gardens, fear not

as I forethought to wal

along Trefusis Terrac

to view the red rock cliff

amid the mist and dissipating morning dew

and spy the rising su

A turn around the town and Stran

by the Imperial and the Gran

a South Devon scone and te

is sought and bought and enjoye

and after clotted cream and honeyed ja

the Beacon beckon

to the vermillion tulip guar

above the Manor Garden

h

 A western wind blows from the Teig

causing skies to blue

and turn to pink and purple hue

late lofty clouds billow and bloo

then slowly fall to settle beyond the Exe Creek banks and

hill
s

Fields of Fir

Fields of fire are fields of freedo

into the night and on to foreve

At the waterhole sits a desert travelle

beyond belief are the miles in his hand

The caverns stir by the reach of the moo

the flame shelters by the shivering dune

Windswept and fanciful are the rhythmic dancer

the starlight shines and the veldt stare

e

 Firefl

The palm fronds twitc

lightly in a sunset breez

The South China Sea caresse

gently it’s twilight shor

The firefly shines and dance

slowly, glimmering, guidin

The spiral comet tai

vanishes to the moo

y

Firenz

To the banks of the Arno I flee to take the flo

of the crystal river

as Ariele echoes the distant faint sound of oper

where the Ponte Vecchio shimmers in a sultry sk

e

Forbidden Cit

Imperial Palace how open are your gate

how high are your walls through courtyards and

corridors of heavenly peac

Forbidden City reveal your secret

to the whispering breeze of concubines intrigue

and Emperor’s dream

y

For Gyula Horn …..

The Man Who Tore the Curtain Dow

A Magyar stands high above Kings and Queen

from the plains came horsemen chasing dust trailed

dream

Boulevards wide lead to Heroes Squar

monuments tall of legends that dare

Soviet occupation with bullet holed wall

shadows in doorways the communist call

Trough the red star and sickle flows the great Danub

scything the city apart in tw

Protesting revolution and party unres

reclaiming the streets of Budapes

At the border stood Gyula Hor

with cutters he tore the curtain dow

and by dusk a new republic bor

s

 Four Lakeside Italian Town

Varenna is a watercolour mirage

where steep cypresses lea

to a tranquil arbour of worn marble cooling to heal an

afternoon letharg

Bellagio where between shaded shrubs and statues bar

the sweetness of the fragrant balm

and orange blossom exudes the ai

Garda awaking from a misty September drea

as each sunrise brings the fishermen’s early catch home to

the Padre's blessin

Bardolino below olive groves and vines making the fine

red win

lapped by shimmering waters and a calming peace of a

shady afternoon siest

 Fre

Peace and silence wander

through the forest tree

not a sound nor or a rustle or a screa

just the

for that momen

we were fre
e

From a Short Stay in the Isle of Wigh

Layers of san

bright colours in band

quartz crumbling awa

litters Alum Ba

between harbour and ba

turns the twists of the Ya

castles and for

guns facing nort

The ferries arrive at the pier at Ryd

a hand drawn clock tells the time of the tide

fossils discovered in wavy line

buried in chasms in the walls of the chine

Tennyson went down to Freshwater Bay

where guillemots nest far up and awa

winding rows of Ventnor's lane

smuggler’s paths and steep hill way

d

From a Window in Hoxto

Sunrise over the cit

casts its light over my shoulde

Twists of smoke curl up to the skie

as wispy charcoal strokes and commuters scuttl

Sundown over the cit

casts long shadows over anonymous face

until they vanis

leaving a mesmerising glittering panorama of the nigh

h

 Ghosts of the Atlanti

Able Seaman Adams left Liverpoo

that September of 194

bleak grey skies lay ahea

wild and foamy as the swells heave

and the dazzle ships to stern constantly rose and

crashed back down into the icy waves

Skipper Donal leaves Killybegs toda

ten days a trawling the ocean to sonar the shoal

his hull housing the creel that holds the wasted Krill

used to bait the haddock and hak

But today an autumn detour is to be made to Rockal

throwing a wreath to the wes

to oat away under anodyne skie

putting to rest, the weeping cold souls of the Benare

fl
c

Gold Coas

Along the Pacific Highway past dream and theme park

man made glass malls and fishermen’s wharf

Miles of white sand, sun blazing brigh

wind and the waves a surfer’s deligh

t

Granda

All those years ago all those moors explore

me and grandad walking forever out of door

Lancashire’s wondrous landscape

hidden country dream

grandma's in the backseat to pay for petrol and ice crea

Climbing hills and chasing clouds roaming wild and fre

collecting all the acorns and planting them for tree

Picnics in empty lay-bys shandy in a quiet pu

I always had a shilling which grandad made two bo

Today and never forgotten the decades they have passe

that 1965 summer that would be my grandads las

d

Great Wall of Chin

Great wall rising from the northern plain

across provinces wild and rugged you wande

ramparts high and steps stee

cut deep from ancient times a fortress wa

what tales you must weave through this fabled lan

a

Heat Wav

Like summer fruits the summer bring

long hot days and wedding ring

In the country or the coas

pressure rises, bodies roas

Traffic jams for miles and mile

tempers flare, children smil

Caravan convoys head to the beac

thousands of lobsters pink in the hea

While all the hoards slowly head awa

I find contentment in my garden shad

e

Hedgeho

The hedgehog snuffles and stumbles aroun

blind as night he listens for sound

The hedgehogs hungry all those bugs and grub

a gardener’s friend eating slimy slug

The hedgehogs peaceful calm and sleep

away from the winter dreaming deepl

g

Herbs (for being most useful

Mint for tea and the belly and caraway to

thyme for the throat, hyssop for a col

basil for the salad, parsley on a dis

lemon balms are calming and fennel for the fis

)

 Hospital Sta

Taken to hospital only five years ol

a terrifying ordeal down Clatterbridge Roa

Separated from home with little explanatio

"what are these things tonsils? what’s an operation?

Trolley off to the theatre over pine whiffy floor

a sleepy injection swirling faces and wall

Past midnight I wake a full moon lights the sk

dazed and bloodied I moan and cr

A night nurse appears and comfort is give

but what have I done to be in this priso

White coats gather looking and peerin

I want to sleep, go home, carry on my dreamin

After visits the days unfold boring and slowl

playing with teddy and old Mr Campbell telling me

storie
s

Late night commotio

doctors and screens but nothing sai

by dawn on the ward Mr Campbell’s gon

leaving an empty bare be

Those five days remain to this day a great sca

and my reward for all this was an Aston Martin James

Bond toy ca
r

House Dust Mit

The life of the house dust mite is quite biopi

a considerable feat since they are microscopi

We eat and breathe and sleep each nigh

with at least two million house dust mite

Up close and magnifie

I guess we should be terrifie

They thrive on flakes of skin we she

and love the warm and cosy be

They're in the air and in the mattres

causing allergies rashes and asthm

Themselves are harmless though they look such a sigh

our enemy are the particles known as dust mite shit

e

Humber Bridg

Seen for miles aroun

your span and crow

twin towers and cable

red car light tail

the suspensio

apprehensio

of crossing the Humber Bridg

n

I Dreamed of Going to Se

I used to play on the east and west oat quay

and the four bascule bridges across the

Wallasey and Birkenhead docks

Slipping through the sliding warehouse door

to rummage among the gunny sack carg

of Joseph Rank and Spiller’s grain just unloaded from

the eas

The allure and smell of the thick oily rop

suspended from the dockside bollards was intoxicatin

beautiful, almost an addictio

The Japanese cook on the “Yokohama Maru

cleaver in hand

waving from his galley balcony half open doo

against the setting sun cries

“Haarow, chop, chop, come aboard

t

fl

Negotiating the rickety plan

safe from the deep dark waters below by the drunken

sailor net

I stood on the red leaded dec

of a Nippon Yusen Kaisha freighte

waiting in vain to be shanghaie

and set sail to the seven sea

The “Hu Lin” from Canton was always out of bound

but the Blue Funnel giant

“Perseus” and “Titan” were always welcomin

with bilge pumps gently gurgling out water

lapping back against the kee

and swishing the plimsoll lin

The salty air mingled with molasses at Tate and Lyl

as the dock gates swung ope

and the “Brocklebank” tu

towing the towering behemoth

drifted slowly but surely out into the Merse

s

 The docks are almost empty no

save for a small tramper or two and a laid up ferry boa

the ghosts of the deckhands and idle crane

cry out to me toda

Tonight I shall dream of going to se

 In Zermat

Nobody drives in Zermat

a traffic free zon

peril fre

only perilous tourist

scouring in summe

for swatche

visor-clad in winte

for descending pursuit

r

Januar

A dense fog at daw

folds slowly across the tow

Monochrome figures like bare branche

bend in the breez

stooped and worn yet youn

y

June 5th 196

I went camping that half ter

as far as the back garde

setting up my ten

secured by stake

cosy cushioned solitud

Just settled in then a shou

“food’s ready

from the scullery stove a pile of chip

home cooked served in a plain white paper ba

About to enjoy this slightly overcooked feas

the chips as always were a bit too crispy

and sharp as spear

when the seclusion ……. shattered by a muf ed voice

straining through the canvas wall

”

fl
g

My mother came out into the garde

something’s going on here I though

I clambered out tripping and twanging the guide wire

to be given instruction

“Run next door” (but one

“and tell aunty Pat” (she’s not really my aunty

“that Bobby Kennedy’s been shot, but not dead … yet

So I sprint next door (but one

and hammer down the knocke

probably waking “uncle Bill” from his Vauxhall Motors

nightshift sleep i

and despite an urgent panic I remember my lines and

blurt ou

“Bobby Kennedy’s been shot, but not dead … yet

A pink then pale face stared bac

I realised that this bulletin had a destin

so unrehearsed I stuttered “put yer radio on

t

Performance and anxiety over

message delivered I returned to the ten

but when I got bac

my chips had gone col

so I called for some mor

but they turned out white, hard and ra

The tent was too hot so I gave it u

to sleep in my bed fair comfort instea

at dawn I learned that Bobby was still hanging o

yet those who knew looked too forlor

That morning I put the tent away for goo

and folded the apping shroud swaddling the poles

and peg

and put it to rest in a drawer in the she

drifting round the garden I found my white chip paper

bag set free, blown, surrendere

and plastered to the fence

transparent now by too much vinega

s

fl
k

Kent’s Resident

As Princess Pocahantos was put to res

at St. Georges, Gravesend in the chance

it was by royal declaratio

that all forms of dancing and leapin

were to be actively encourage

but that bowling which was as bad as bear baiting was to

be forbidde

As Samuel Wyatt watched for ships in distress at

Dungenes

shingle and stones were swept in by the gale

and only when the fog finally settled on the Romney

marshes could the ghosts of smugglers and their

phantom horses be hear

s

 As Dickens penned Copperfield in Broadstairs confine

from a from a solitary bleak house of walls hidden behind

wall

the twin sister towers of Reculver remaine

to guide mariners to land from the seas that plunder

As Churchill in his Chartwell garden sat in a boiler suit

painting bridges and wood

his day job some said was saving the nation from wear

and tear and wa

but it all ended badly in defeat at the ballot box electio

until a surprise reprise after a demi – decade rose again

through a blue Maduro haz

s

 La Rocca di Passignan

Dawn break

the castle awake

the grey walls stand erect in the sunris

the inhabitants have long since die

Dusk settle

the stone grows col

battlements stand like a petrified arm

watching and waiting for the approach of the silent

enem
y

Lament of a Yorkshire Maide

She sat upon a ston

so rugged and wor

mossy by the moul

and the col

and the west wind blow

Deciding whether t

spend her lif

to weep and mourn

to wander or wonder

about what life may hol

in any future show

I saw her sitting there

old and fair

upon the Yorkshire stone

as she had sat and stare

across the moor

all those year

d

about what might have bee

if he had from war returne

Land der Berge, Land am Strome

(Land of mountains, Land by the river

Austria with its silver dish lakes

waiting for the summer fruit

where cable car bahns dangle like bright red cherrie

over newly mown lime green pastures as meadows turn

to mountain

The Ziller Valley’s fields its marigolds

Rattenburg swelters heat from the furnac

and crystal erupts from the glassblowers trumpe

The Prater Wheel turns like a slow clock han

clandestine meetings of lovers or the third ma

and rivers wind then roa

through pine and logs and forest floor

Glacier dazzling pure bright whit

reflected blue against the sk

and through shifting ice slow and col

marmots live in the fissures and fold

s

 And as a soft moon settles over Shuttdor

the sounds of the distant clatter of a horse and car

the clink of schnapps glasses and a rushing mountain

strea
m

Lawrenc

A cripple is made racing a home made kar

down a tenement hil

practising for the Preston Guil

1914 the Government call

fit young me

fighting spirits with strengt

A cripple looks in with an offer to hel

maybe making factory bayonets, bullets and shell

But recruited immediately ordered to the statio

King’s shilling in pocket with tin can ration

No time to get a message hom

with rifle and helmet to Flanders boun

never to return from foreign groun

And on a Preston pantry table la

Lawrence's cold untouched tea time pi

e

Leasowe Life - Parts I and I

I. Dangerfield Behind the Brickwork

Dangerfield if your dar

real cartridges brass and rar

Hide and seek such great fu

I even found the barrel of an old sten gu

Overgrown and wild by da

trespassers forbidden to walk and pla

This was our jungle, childhood wa

keep one eye open for the arm of the la

With sticks for swords the games were rea

all that danger is today is a playing fiel

e

II. Market Garden Opposite The Twenty Row In

Wicker baskets with lettuce and cabbag

marrows in furrows and freshly hung rabbit

allotments, compost and follow the pong

sacks of tatties sold for a son

g

 Leaving

Waiting alone on a station platform at this time of nigh

to catch the last train from her

Travelling at this crazy hour through countryside I cannot

se

bypassing industrial towns, jewelled, I thought about our

……. pas

Trying to sleep in this empty carriage thinking of yo

all I have is a reflection in the window reminding me of

what once wa
e

Leccy and Ga

Leccy and gas plus VA

fuels the cost of heat for the elderl

Hypothermia putting lives in jeopard

bitter winter enemy of the elderl

Leccy and gas a necessary energ

it should be cheap or free for the elderl

s

Letter Write

Write a letter and save a lif

across the world like a satellit

write a letter and save a lif

to save some body from a butchers knif

Write a letter to South Americ

to save the man behind the steel bar

the government keep the prison key

so write a letter to set him fre

So many people held in chain

a pen is the scalpel to ease their pain

the candle burns, the barb wire sting

words unwritten darkness brings

r

 Lotter

Yer pays yer poun

yer takes a chanc

yer entertaine

by song and danc

Balls spin aroun

and one by on

yer tick em of

its only fu

Win or los

well someone di

the best I don

was just ten qui

Profits to good cause

or to charit

or in directors pocket

that we can’t se
y

Lucca and Saint Gemm

Renown for Puccini’s birt

and virgin oils and city wall

enclosing your intricate and graceful patter

of weaving streets, multitude piazza

staging beautiful Basilica’

and pink hue stone churches and gardens aromati

The amber glow terracotta roof tiles

seen from the city walls at sunrise and dus

silhouette the Alpi Apuane hill

three seasons you exude the heady fragrance of jasmin

that grows in abundanc

On a hot summers day the weary take harbou

in narrow lanes and shade for their passeggiat

siphoning the cooler breeze off the artery cobble

e

A wedding cake white marble St. Michael

or a comforting quiet and peaceful lofty copper domed

green sanctuary

as Santa Gemma took refuge to hid

from prying eye

her Wounds of the Passio

 Matterhor

Rising beyond the mountain streams flowing at spee

high above the pinion track trains

encapsulated like a slow release drug shooting out into

the su

carved by nature, a snow capped pyramid blue diamon

trapped in September light ….. a monarch enthroned

Matterhor
n

Meadowside Cup Final 196

In kits and jean

we'd pick two team

by dip dip di

and my blue shi

Although quite small I'd play in goa

hoping that we wouldn’t fou

then a trip inside the bo

and big Pete rolled down his sock

Whack! a casey fast and lo

I flew and saved this great penn

p

Memory

Yesterday I held a dying persons han

and the rains cam

Today I stood under tropical skies

and the breeze cam

Tomorrow I a

returning hom

 Mila

Galleria …… bastion of fashio

perfume, Fiat and secret passion

La Scala bathed in rouge and gol

Verdi’s tales sung to be tol

tempura mural by Da Vinc

behind courtyards and cloisters sleeps the supper’s last

sittin
n

Modern Worl

Money for the rich, sure

it’s not a problem to print some mor

this is a modern worl

We use a satellite dish to catch our fis

we have toxic waste to kill the human rac

living in a modern worl

Away from home we use our mobile phon

attacked by texts and apps what’s next

we are all happy in a modern worl

We make the rivers flow fort

we make the rivers flow bac

what’s the use of this in a nuclear attac

in this our modern worl

All this disarming that people find alarmin

and the last sound we heard was a three minute warnin

wasn’t ours a modern worl

d

Mr. Moo

Mr Moo

grinds wheat and cor

from early mor

barley mow

sails go roun

Great cog wheels crus

the grains and hus

while Mrs Moon of ancient hou

bags by han

the rough hewn flou

n

 Mr. Pettigrew’s Cur

In an old hote

by the old seasid

Mr. Pettigrew staye

or some say resid

With windows ope

and bracing sea breeze

it did well for Pettigrew’

wheezes and sneeze

My Merse

Merchant ship crane

unloading their grai

Confederate ships built at Cammell Laird

opposite sits the Liver Bird

Ferries glide across the Merse

supporters wear their red or blue jersey

high above the Albert doc

cathedral bells peal over their flock

The world’s greatest seafaring cit

land of the Beatles and birth of the sixtie

today’s excitement is its calm reflectio

designer walks and regeneratio

New Brighton to Seacombe a fair old strid

a pint at Egremont by the tid

Fort Perch Rock out to Liverpool Ba

to the west, West Kirby and old Hoylak

y

Nan’s Cabine

The light cherry-wood display cabine

always stood in the same plac

in the corner of Nan’s front parlou

the pale glossy polished wood

and the fragile glass shelve

holding the crème of her souvenir

Best china brought out on Sunday

or days when Uncle Harry came to visit … sometimes

unexpectedl

to be greeted by “eee you could have knocked me down with

a feather

gifting his tin of red salmo

to compliment a salad of celery, lettuce and a tomat

It was always something of an honour to be given the

long hollow key and

asked to “fetch summat special or best

”

 my favourites were the blue and white stripey and

stoney west country tea se

from a 1962 foray to Penzanc

The top shelf was always reserved for porcelain thing

the lion and tiger bought by me for her birthda

with pocket money saved or more often given on the

da

Post mortem the collection was given awa

the lion and the tiger now live in a wooden box like

cof n found in the attic just prior to a recent mov

I also got those blue and white bits for everyday us

until they nally broke and came to rest like a Cornis

ship wreck at the bottom of the garden years ag

y

fi
fi
t

New Ag

Percentages and air pollutio

interest rates are their solutio

Rolling stock and fighter plane

their rhetoric is rather lam

Glossy shops and credit card

pay next month that’s not so har

Hungry children roam alon

to a cardboard box that they call hom

A boat from the east carries sugar and spic

a mask and a sign are the dealers dic

Courage and speed to fuel injectio

and all that’s left is a specimen sectio

A hole in the wall a hole in the sk

the rivers are flooding and we cannot hid

e

The villas and deserts are scorching toda

watch for the iceman to show you the wa

Night Calle

They sleep during daylight

because they walk out the nigh

attracted and addicted and high on the city light

They like the hot nights to feel the sheet glass burnin

the skies are empty of cloud

the stars are on fire

and they like the crescend

It is almost dawn the night lights are fadin

home beckon

who knows about their secrets ……. until the next nigh
r

North to Noos

Northwards via the Bruce, Ettamogah and Yalind

bush country taverns, ladies on the verand

Gingertown beckons pineapple plain

thunderhead rocks sugarcane trail

Tumbleweeds scatter to Glasshouse Range

in the distant sea, white horses are dolphin

a

November 22nd 196

My name is Pete Smit

but ‘cos of my size my nickname is Smidg

I am 7½ years ol

and this is my story of my day ou

It was a warm November lunchtim

the day before, the Dallas rain had pummelled our

tarmac driv

but today it was differen

the large neon sign on our Texas school depository

glowed 67°

I had been made to dress smartl

just like the time that we went

to my cousins wedding picni

blue and black check sweate

grey shorts and my best tan sandal

at least the grassy knoll had dried out in the noon su

e

 It was a big part

but I had the best view of all of the crowd

as all the hoards were squashed in shop doorway

or cramming the sidewalk

The cars came into view edging into the plaza

on Elm Stree

high up I thought I glimpsed a sharp sparkle in the red

brick store windo

As the parade glided towards u

I saw Jackie in her pink suit “Chanel” … my mum sai

like a bride waving to the masse

I guess we all came to see her reall

The sounds of cheering, ringing and whizzin

then a shuddering thunder from the trailing motorcad

I thought I saw and heard an orange ash and crac

maybe it was just the sun in my eyes but it sure smelled

of rework
fi
s

fl
s

Then a shower of we

crimson confetti poured ou

of the violet sk

and showered me in silenc

y

Ochre Eye

So goodbye from me for no

and I will dream of you to

and perhaps those sparkling light

and ochre eyes

will see and nd the trut

and with sealed kisse

end in deligh
s

fi
t

Ode to Fish and Chip

For choice and with te

the quayside at Whitb

facing out to the se

eating Britain’s great delicac

For quality and tripled cooked tast

try the Chinese takeawa

scoffed in front of the T

with rich red sauce from H

then washed down with pleasur

by a brown ale in good measur

The best one eve

was a northern endeavou

“A Higgies Special” in Cheste

fish, chips, mushy peas, bread and butter

……. nothing bette

r

 Ozon

There is no zone for what its wort

where ozone’s safe on this our eart

Prime Ministers and Presidents mee

to limit all their CFC’

But until these nations all decid

is tomorrow too dangerous to step outside

For all the talk and lessons learne

through scorching skies our planet burn

We must act now not hesitat

if not for us then our children’s sak

We must all learn to change our live

recycle now or wave goodby

e

 Pand

Oh panda were would you rather b

in the wild or in the zo

eating bambo

or rice from a bow

The choice is ours not yours you se

only we control your destin

So panda teach our children tru

to save the woods and not to los

your precious smil

for when you are gon

we'll follow to
a

Paris in the Sprin

Paris in the spring is alive agai

petals profuse the Tuilerie

lovers and artists steal glances and kisse

at night in ruby and gol

glow a million light

g

Penny Deposit Bottle

Collecting old bottles for the penny deposi

carrying mums basket and pushing my trolle

knocking on doors “any empties to spare”

I'll recycle them all to fill my pockets so bar

Laden with glass my trolley was ful

Tizer, Corona and Vimto to the shop I would pul

the shopkeepers face would drop when he saw m

more vessels returned that’s a bag brimmed with pennie

s

Petticoat Lane Market 196

Blankets and sheets cheap as can b

buy one of these and the rest come for fre

Kitchen devices for slicing and carvin

a dinner set for six a guinea and a farthin

Hang on to your purses or wallets will fl

my bargain that Sunday a lime green and yellow wide

kipper ti
e

 Pis

In Pisa a pendulum swing

lost to the stars in an astronomer’s drea

To wanderers you reveal a world’s great wonde

your leaning tower tilts and points us to ponde

Light is Pis

coloured yellow of san

then as foreve

Galileo's lan
a

Polar Bea

Four months beneath the winter snow

slumbers deep in dreams of icy flow

the night sky's aurora waves and glow

Blizzards whistle across terrai

in this the polar bear's domai

r

Poppylands

Above what lies beneath the far country elds

a plume of ash rises to noble empyrean height

as the nal pounding and screaming fades into the

contrite violet twilight sk

Fresh frozen ground thaws each early spring

and the ploughs furrowing divulges a trenches secret’s

locked away for a century or mor

preserved in deathly silence

a shattered shuttered shelte

Without family or mourner

the forlorn fallen nally returns from Flander

by train and cortege and the Union Fla

to the loneliest headland North Norfolk Church

and a cliff top grav

carried on a rickety cart down the crunchy gravel path

home at las
fi
t

fi
e

fi

watched in silence by eleven local school children who

have only ever known peac

The corporal corpse is lowered to rest again under

sodden eart

the wild sanguine poppies bend in a bitter easterly

wailing win

in remembrance to the end of tim

h

Preston Trea

The other day I took a train to Presto

we used to visit there in the sixties to see Harry and Doll

Uncle Harry worked for the Bus Corporation all of his lif

from Conductor to Inspector in charge of Union right

Harry loved his lemonade ordered by the crat

stored away in the pantry the Corona was grea

The other day I walked and rediscovered

those same street

the end Victorian terrace was still ther

an island surrounded by new uni building

but at least the door and the wonky stone step

was now straigh

Clutching a faded photograph of me standing on the

same doorste

in short trousers and tan sandal

t

and holding the clippies ticket machine that I had been

given all those years ago ……..

I was tempted to knock at the doo

My knock was answered by a lovely lady Benita Pate

and after a daft explanation I was invited i

the family offered me a cup of Lancashire te

and a cheese bar

and then I blurted ou

“have you any cream soda in the pantry”

m

Rainbo

Myriad of rain droplets on a window pan

beguile the ligh

tantalise and refrac

w

Reconciliatio

In the quiet Olberg woods and hills above th

weaving Rhine Valle

in it’s meandering paths and lane

I met a shabby old man at a bus sto

Eager to speak in fast owing torrent

I hadn’t a clu

so we talked single side

Germanic versus Anglo

until we slipped into broken Englis

I mentioned Lancashire the place of my birt

and then I surrendered to his words “Blackpool” and

“Prisoner of War”

he was moved to declare that he had been treated

kindly in internmen
e

fl

The Germans had blitzed the chip shop … my Gran had

assured m

then I thought of our bombs on Bonn and Dresden and

falling across the river here at Cologne but I was too

young to be contrite for our father’s victorie

And as the empty bus approache

he held out his han

in an act of reconciliation and peac

Reconciliation was selected by Liverpool’s Metropolitan Cathedral for lming

and broadcast as part of a series of meditative re ections
e

fl
e

fi
Remembering that Christmas

The snowman brought the snow that winte

to illuminate the groun

at night I gazed towards the moon

and wondered about Father Christma

I was searching for signs of proof

those telltale tracks upon the roo

I crept into the bay window

and caught sight of a shooting sta

no sign but the sound of Santa's bells

(rung by my dad hiding in the garden

to excite and drift me off to drea

beneath the midnight blue

and the lavender flock wallpape

Waking up early on that Christmas mornin

presents in a candy stripe winceyette pillowcas

oh …. and an orange and some walnut

with the Cadburys selection bo

d

a bag of gold foil choccy coin

and a red box of malteser

which I would save up and use as ammo in a pop gu

for shooting into open gob

which was a dare, scare and smashing fu

Then time to dress up as Wyatt Earp holstered in leathe

or the Cherokee enemy with bandana and feathe

the best on the telly was Mr Pastry ….. agai

but Batman and Robin was my fav

then if I was best behave

I could stay up late chewing some Rolo’

with Illya Kuryakin and Napoleon Sol

d

 Rom

Eternal dawn in the Piazza Republi

wakes the doves like fluttering rocket

in a chattering sk
e

Sarajev

Families and friends torn apart till the en

now there is only sorrow in Sarajev

Nations debate but it is all to lat

for enclaves and slaves the mist never rise

Where has life gone to a far away have

where brothers weep and sisters cr

Rockets and shells, meditation of bell

tolling for lives once live

Now there is only sadness in Sarajev

o

Scarlet Ligh

Into Schiphol and then by tra

to the heart of Amsterda

Canals weave as a maz

under bridges that lowly laz

Spheres of edam and gouda chees

or a puff of some legal herbal lea

Tall thin houses with hidden seam

revealing Ann Franks tortured dream

Blue and white delft in the potter’s hal

Van Gogh paintings adorn the wall

Tulips disguise forbidden sights

undressing windows through the nigh

to lead beyond the scarlet ligh

t

 Scen

Scent of the eart

scent of the sea

scent of the sk

inhal

enjo
y

Scotlan

Land of legend

Picts and Gael

mystical mountain

mythical isle

silent lochs and shiver

in the depths of winte

fortress cradled wind

on misty morn moor

echo’s of old battle crie

your remoteness beguile

d

Searching for Suzi Won

At Causeway Bay the noon day gu

there stands the solitary Englishma

one o’ clock sharp champagne salut

traditions past resolut

Sampans sail through the boat communit

floating lives with no continuit

Aberdeen and fragrant harbour

oyster sauce and other odour

Shopping plazas skyward loo

a dazzling display in old Kowloo

night falls in old Hong Kon

exploring Wan Chai and Suzi Won

e

September Tim

September time has come agai

with watercolour skies of sapphire blu

indented by powdery wispy clouds

as white felt sown into a crinkled cotton dres

At Saddle Bow the fields newly turned

have brought the soil inside ou

revealing a dark chocolate rippled landscape of furrow

as the seabirds flown from The Was

follow perilously close

to the tractor and ploug

gathering and gorging on earthen worm

and last spring’s un-sprouted seed

Behind the station platform and paint peeled picket

fences at Watlingto

the sunflowers begin to stoop sadl

as the first winds of autum

caress the flatlands of the eastern fen

e

 Shangri L

Liste

the far distant melodies trave

across the still serene water

waves lap upon the sun setting shor

a light breeze brushes through the palm beach terrace and

tree
s

Shoppin

The super marke

what have you go

you've got it al

everything we ask fo

Won't you come insid

the aisles are long and wid

food and fashion wait

through the automatic gate

All you ever thought you neede

but even that has been succeede

forget the complex shopping mal

welcome to the world of digita

fingering our glowing screen

to order up your wildest dream

g

Silver Birc

The silver birch grows tall and thi

it's peeling bark paper thi

Waving branches catkin tail

velvet leaves like a thousand sail

h

 Soa

I love the smell of cheap soap in all those

B & B and hotel bathroom

from summer holidays on the seafront in Scarborough

and Bridlingto

and those boarding houses with wooden stairs polished

and tid

serving fish for dinner because it’s Frida

Then at the end of the day

being called from play

on the greens, in dirty jean

to be bathed and scrubbed down in haste with that small

white bloc

the aroma of clea

p

 Soha

Soham sits

east of Cambridg

away from the spire

amid meadows and drove

Soham sit

south of El

away from shadows of lantern

amid pastures and grove

Soham sit

north of Newmarke

away from the race

amid quiet country road

Soham sit

west of Bur

away from the sugary sweet bee

amid fens and lode

m

 Southend Pie

Southend Pie

in flame

agai

oh dear

But you are the longest in the worl

so we will build you bac

and thousands more can tread your board

or ride the track

to the en

of Southend Pie

agai
n

 Sprin

The grass forever gree

in a fine English sprin

willowed by a wind chime breez

wave the daffodils in a rin

Herbs suddenly haste

and beckon charismaticall

feathered, leaved or balm

fragrant aromaticall

Buds and blooms early flowering fruit

dampened by an April showe

forever silent sculptured friend

statues mossy in mosaic ochre yello

g

St. Wolfgan

A paddle steamer from St. Gilgen sojourns gently against

the qua

wooden homes and balconie

and open windows waiting for the face of the cucko

but all that appears is the farmers wif

looking across to Strobl with the smell of apfelstrude

Lakeside castle and palace aslee

empty walls within against yellow alabaste

the gardens are my retrea

Up ahead a puff of steam winding ascendin

Schafbergbahn, oil and coal

fires burning, pistons turnin

pushing, shushin

rack and pinion round ravine

then blue skies open summit bound

revealing five magic lakes across the Salzkammergu

y

Steam Train Journey of One Stop (and being allowed to

stand on the footplate

Standing on the footplate real not a drea

coals to the fire the puffing and the stea

just through the cutting a steamy hot thril

A 2-4-2 from Lime Street up to Edge Hil

)

 Stor

An electric storm rage

far distan

lightening the nigh

of a Sumatran sk

deep orange hue

the colour of a tige

whilst stars blaze through silver eye

Roaring thunde

the unheeded tiger cries forlor

waiting for the silenc

and the calm of daw

m

Summer in Suffol

Fields of wheat turn to golde

barley heads whispering foldin

Pink washed cottages neatly thatche

Tudor beams with oak door latc

Villages of tranquil char

haystack’s gathered on the farm

Byways silent past ford and mil

Kersey’s lost in time stood stil

Long Melford and its sister Clar

in elderflower lanes white clusters star

Cavendish for old antique

Lavenham church for a Suffolk te

k

The evening sun yellows the hou

abbey gardens display their flower

The silhouette of age old tree

evenings fragrant scent on a genteel breez

s

Summer of Lov

In the summertime when the days were lon

we used to travel far and sing our song

Carefree were those long hot day

with the yellow sun and the mellow haz

Wild then in the summertim

nights of love and days of win

Today perhaps wherever you may b

do you treasure still that memor

e

Sunflowe

A sunflower grow

whilst lawns are mow

A black and white see

shoots at first like a wee

How something so smal

towers now tal

When the rays hit your fac

standing boldly with grac

But when the autumn rains nea

you fold and shed your tear

r

Sydne

Opera House fans out in great white sail

on Bennelong Point the queen of New South Wale

Monorail twists around Sydney's street

pedestrian’s below strive on their fee

Botanical gardens carpet Macquarie’s Chai

the "Rocks" markets and merchants ware

Darling Harbour a taste of the futur

crisscross ferries ply back on the wate

Skyline horizons thee antipodean vie

silhouette of the bridge dusks bronzed gold hu

y

Tales Betwixt the Axe and Ex

To Seaton to sit o

the electrifying tra

that glides around the tow

in colourful liveried display an

cranks to higher downs and Colyto

To the westerlies of Salterto

marine and commando garriso

training to derail the oppositio

now only ghosts of D-Day pas

and Neptune’s waving han

a solemn farewell to loved ones and liberatio

n

 Nearby where on rich red loa

donkeys roa

and revel in their safe have

above the caves and cove

while cattle drove

and all day graze beside the Axe and O

and cyclists laze in Devon’s

elderflower lanes in seaso

Ottery, whence Pricilla and Laurie came and wen

and sailed in clearer skie

by Imperial Airways to the Orien

narrowly missing exploding comets

and came to res

in Ital

in Pescallo upon their twilight fading year

y

Tale of Two Tortoise

Harry and Tiny were good friends, taking all da

to chew a tomato and doze and chew a bit mor

One summer we almost lost Harry, he crept awa

but was brought back at the end of the da

I guess it was the number seven painted on his shel

so all was wel

Small Tiny ever content to stay and never stra

seemed to smile when the lettuce leaf ros

to tickle his nos

Quite suddenly no notice given they were gon

I pestered and cried "Where's Harry and Tiny

handed to who?”

sent away to soo

l

Weeks went by but I never forgot and then a day ou

to Belle Vue ……. a zo

riding on an elephants bac

gliding down the water shoot splas

And then on displa

in the house of reptili

were Harry and Tin

just as familia

I tapped on the glass "Harry, Tiny, look it’s me

as they nodded and sucked on more tomatoe

two together in their glass roo

and my happiness returne

late that afternoon

r

"

Tanjung Rh

At Tanjong Rh

I rest to the lap of the waves, calmly, peacefull

At Tanjong Rh

I watch at dusk the fluted fishermen casting nets from an

endless shore to a sinking su

At Tanjong Rh

I sleep to an ocean breeze, caressingly, dreamily

u

Tears and Smile

Water washes away tears amidst the memory of year

reflecting on decisions sought, some taken, some though

Nostalgic days, moments in tim

pathways travelled entwin

people and places in min

The sun dries the tears leaving a fading stain of past year

put aside the decades for awhil

and let the tear turn to a smil

s

Temple of Heave

With marble and gol

you write out the pas

whilst dragons and lion

guard you foreve

Lanterns like sentinel

show one the pat

to the Temple of Heave

the colour of the sk

h

The Apple and the Greengage Tre

The apple and the greengage tre

grow side by sid

arched and bent togethe

almost seemed entwine

The summer sun swell

and ripens all the fruit

cluster bunches gree

and red speckled suit

As autumn approache

thoughts of gathering the cro

the gentlest of caresse

and the harvest will dro

The leaves now turn to yello

to the wind and lea

the apple and the greengag

will retire now and slee

e

The Ballad of Johnny Robinson

and the Black Rock Mermai

To the wind and the tempes

screaming from the Orm

blew in on this fair gal

a wild heart of stor

And I sing to you Johnny Robinso

And I sing to you from the se

And I call you Johnny Robinso

I call you unto m

Appearing on the foundering dec

she promised to guide him hom

and so washed upon a Hoylake shor

released from savage surf and foa

e

And I sing to you Johnny Robinso

And I sing to you from the se

And I call you Johnny Robinso

I call you unto m

Through mist and rain and clear skie

and waters cold or war

eyes blue as the ocean dee

will wait for him at daw

And I sing to you Johnny Robinso

And I sing to you from the se

And I call you Johnny Robinso

I call you unto m

To the sound of midnights submerged bell

to mariners one and al

the creature of the se

sits on Black Rock Leasowe shor

e

And I sing to you Johnny Robinso

And I sing to you from the se

And I call you Johnny Robinso

I call you unto m

Charmed by the mermaids song

to accept her coral rin

he slips out at night to New Brighton beac

to be never again be see

And I sing to you Johnny Robinso

And I sing to you from the se

And I call you Johnny Robinso

I call you unto m

So when the moon is full and tide a turnin

and the wind be still and cal

you can still hear the mermaid singin

from Black Rock all alon

e

And I sing to you Johnny Robinso

And I sing to you from the se

And I call you Johnny Robinso

I call you unto m

e

The Coach Trip to Blackpoo

A day out by coach somewhere not too fa

New Brighton to Blackpool booked by Grandm

At some village in the Ribble we would stop for a whil

the half way halt for the toilet and a meat and tattie pi

Hundreds of coaches we must remember its numbe

then off to the pleasure beach or promenade bing

Ride on the rails the cream and green tram

the top deck to Fleetwood or Lytham St. Anne’

Hot dogs or candy floss and pink sticks of roc

the golden mile’s shimmering Ripley’s “Believe it or Not

Tattooed ladies and two headed pig

Madam Tussaud’s and families in dig

l

The tower stands high above the circus belo

old fogey’s go dancing in formation and row

7.00 pm crowds back at the bus statio

excitement of gliding through illumination

The long day ended we head for hom

into the night with chips in a cone

The Computer (on a bad day

Bip bip bip bop bop bo

all booted up but the password’s wron

Finally in to write, file and sav

send to the printer a further dela

Return and exit won't let me delet

system malfunction, scream at the scree

Remain calm don't stamp on the floo

It’s the fountain pen and sheets of A

p

 The Dales Descending Ligh

It is tting as Lent is but three days henc

that the purple cyclamen survived severe frost

to rise between the damp lichen rich tombs at Ripon

Cathedral surrounding the tree as the gardener burns

his cuttings and the wood smoke ascends from behind

the garden wall and drifts across the graves

A panorama of trees, stark, dark and alveolar

like a thousand lungs waiting to breathe life into sprin

for it is late February no

and the fast owing Ure buffets the lone angle

standing waist deep below the bridge at Masha

The worn landscape strewn with bronzen tufts on

hillocks and last autumn’s coppiced hazels

are shadowed by clumps of trees that shelter the shee

from the sweltering summer sun or winters frozen

moo
fi
n

fl
w

 while from time to time a howling wind tears throug

vacant windows and portals of the dry stone eld barn

screaming at the souls of the fells and dale

The moist green mossy branche

precariously point with sharp bent brittle nger

at the weary wanderer or passer b

to hasten their journe

as the remoteness of life and ligh

slowly slips away to silhouette the peaks

and the ethereal glow dips for another da

and the last train from Garsdale Station slinks away in

twilight to Settle and the distant sparkling lights of

Leed
s

fi
s

fi
s

The Dancing Creatures of Celande

Between sand and stone

I caught a dancing cra

scuttling among scattered shell

Between border and brick

I clocked a dancing ca

grooving in gyrating gras

Between poppy and polle

I beheld a dancing be

buzzing behind bobbing bud

e

 The day that the schools closed for a day was the day
that changed us all in a kind of wa

May the 1st 1997 the heat wave was intense and laconi

the hottest day in any May eve

things were going to get even more red and hotter stil

After an early lunch we went to quietly vote, we had the

afternoon of

two by two a slow trickle now before the evening rus

the elderly, mums pushing prams

and a policeman in short sleeves looked on casuall

taking refuge from the sun outsid

Just before the polls closed at 10.00pm a knock on the

doo

I thought this is canvassing late a party with rosettes

"I’m sorry to bother you but a cat is dea

the old man on the corner has put it in bo

a motorist … a late voter … probably … intoxicated ….

probably …
r

sped off into the night” he said

I said "Try next door three cats live there

Live on TV politicians beamed i

I stayed awake till one, the first twenty result

carrying the flavour of all our labour

then early to rise, a sweeping landslid

A new government forme

this is what we have all waited fo

on the day that the schools closed for a da

the day that changed us all in some kind of wa

but as one party was mourning its los

a funeral took place in next doors garde

the only guests, two cats, in silenc

d

The End of Sprin

I watch for yo

against a darkening sk

now passe

The taint of wet gras

hangs heavily in the ai

a cloud tumbles and out pour

a blue sk

Clear and still and war

and spring is put to slumbe

y

The Folding Chai

The folding chair for sitting, na

but for carting around and standing o

and pushing up the loft lid cove

only then did I discove

its cold up ther

to be perching o

the folding chai

e

 The Last Days of Augus

These last days of August and the golden barle

nods towards sundown high in the East Riding

where tractors haloed by the hazy coppery dus

cut and mow the wheat to sharp stubble stumps

Sunlight slips through alabaster cloud

effulgent nger beams sweep across the soft undulating

landscape causing the stationary coach party waiting to

cross the bridge at Stamford to shield their eyes from

glar

The gathered wheat is towered and perched into perfect

cubes or rolled into cylinder drums sitting in random

rows waiting for winter beneath the odd solitary wind

turbine turning slowly in a lethargic breez

shadowing the edges of the still young corn eld

between Drif eld and Burton Agne

e

fi
fi
t

fi
y

The long summer day softens and slowly starts to sin

and gentle purple skies cool slightly no

as the early evening light drifts in from the se

and the smell of eventide descends on the village green



 The Lesso

By the crossroads up yonder Low

I spied the school kids going hom

With bags and satchels coloured gail

and packets of crisps and fags that they crave dail

Laughing and joking counting pocket money earne

with their folders and textbooks with lessons they've

learne
d

The Only Bit There is of The Cheshire Coas

Child of Hale stood nine foot thre

a gentle giant by the se

Disused lighthouse amid rock strewn san

warned distant ships from distant land

Runcorn bridge hovers over the ship cana

pylons and wires and chemical plant

Ellesmere Port and Stanlow Bank

great floating vessels unload their tank

Refineries miles wid

towering fires light up the skie

e

The Painter and The Seagul

The Painter sees withi

through peeling frame

resting on a crumbling sil

what time has hid reveale

The Seagull glide

with outstretched wing

to an empty spac

painted by the brushes of tim

we can only stand trans xed and gaz

oh … to be that seagull, to move, to

e

fi
l

fl
e

The Powder Monke

In the silence of the violet mornin

and the shadow of the fractured cloud

broken only by the seagull’s squeal

to fool the foe

The canvas flaps and seeping oi

into coil

of friction fraught and taugh

hemp and jut

creaks to drown the sounds of those belo

as victory seems so fa

to fill the shells not shoal

to tailor, stitch and mend the tunics wor

The boys in bell

not teens but ten

the sounds and smell

of black graphite carbo

sparks and fir

s

quell the tempest of the sea

and enemie

Bang and cras

fuse and flas

recoil and reboun

the Powder Monkey swing

to canons from gallows beam

and England’s shores still will be

forever so far away from hom

s

 The Punt Gunne

A ssure in the clouds at daw

casts a sombre curtain ove

the damp sodden November trenche

A pastel mist drapes leaden ove

the wide expanse of the dank dewy fen

The verdant hands of the marsh willow

washed by past fallen drizzl

waver below the caress of the towering heaven

to raise the early birdsong choru

as the punt gunner splays out his single oar

in the stillness of the Welney water

Calm now the breeze rushing through the reed

lest the waters of the Ouse lose their pre

fi
r

 Fingers now frozen through ngerless mitten

prime the gun and trigger read

nally gliding to a stillness of the sou

in morns pale afterglo

A ash of citrine and a single sho

shatters the silence of the daw

and the deed is don

and one more son will not retur

fi
fl
e

fi
n

The Rhin

Rising in the Drachenfel

misty forests and castles dwel

blue skies over grey Bon

where statues point to a soldiers gu

Steep terraces of verdant vine

producing luscious sweet white wine

fast and flowing bends the Rhin

e

The Ring Pul

The beaches of Weston-Super-Mar

were bare that yea

I discovered the ring pul

the froth hissed ou

a malted lava flo

of fine pale gol

the colour of san

as the tide moved awa

beads of chill set i

leaving the beaches alon

that year I discovere

the ring pul

l

The She

In our close every house has a shed but ON

and oh what shapes and sizes they do com

One for gardenin

one the size of a Swiss chale

a fridge freezer in anothe

and Malcolm keeps in his, dreams

locked away and saf

but me I am the ON

no need of such a thin

I let my garden liv

d

The Turtle’s Tal

Fishermen’s net catc

the great leatherbac

today only the fe

out of once thousands get throug

To Rantau Aban

a long sea trek end

with a crawl up the beac

with only flashlights to gree

Is it pain or fea

that causes your cries and tear

you must know rely on ma

to hatch your eggs in the san

Generations lost almost extinc

a life and species right on the brin

as you slip away slowly and submerge under the wave

is it you or us who should be afrai

r

There is an apartment in the Barbican that shall

remain anonymou

Each morning the casual commuter taking a shortcu

can witness if concentrating, the clientel

surreptitiously slipping out into the stairwel

quickly, sheepishly, guiltil

descending to the dawn choru

of the early rush hour traf

below the London Wal

then sloping off through the narrow lanes of Smith eld

or the City’s square mil

s

fi
y

fi
t

Tin Money Bo

A small young boy taken to the ban

to open an accoun

to save money i

is given a ti

with animals o

to keep copper and silve

of all legal tende

When aunties and uncles came aroun

I was often given half a crow

for looking sweet "and oh how he's grown

I filled that tin with treasure and careful though

because once put in can prise out nough

and when its full got taken to ban

to the TSB tiller with a smile, tin opener in han

n

A cascade of coins stand on tip toe to loo

handled with care a stamp in my boo

savings secure

I'm handed a new ti

and given a penny …. to start all over agai

d

Tors … Clints … Grykes and a Good Bre

Crawling out of Glossop’s stonehousey streets

the Snake Pass winds, climbs, then hollow

to the Snake Inn waiting to ensnare the casual passer-by

with a pie and a pin

Nestling below peaks lightly tippe

with tors, clints and gryke

formed by a million frozen winter rains and night

lies Lady Bower with its whirlpool over o

swallowing the funnelling fast water

to the centre of the eart

or simply siphoning to Shef eld around the corne

The River Derwent partly hidden by sunlit shad

appears as black treacle

with sharp, dark, star point sparkle

the bronze conifer tree top

over the valley appear like Doddy’s brus

tickling the blue skies dusting away the cloud

t

fi
d

fl
h

 The lambs with jelly legs

shelter from the blustery breeze

against the dry stone walls whilst the pregnant ewe

lie slump like plump fat seals grounded on green grass

sand bank

In Bakewell the ducks drift downstrea

then stutteringly turn and dart forwar

as targets in a twopenny shooting galler

ghting against the current in a stationary paddl

before taking to valiant ight lowly and skilful like

under the footbridg

The sticky rich, for some sickly sweet pudding

sold in brown paper bags with glistening oily stain

clutched by tourist bus hoard

better to be taken to picnic in the crescent by the rive

fi
s

fl
s

 Matlock’s graceful station is silently awaitin

the hourly service of the Derwent Valley Line from

Nottingha

it’s vintage platforms paying homage to the Edwardian

who came for a day out from Derby or Belpe

to see perhaps the riverside garden

luminous in bloom with yellows, reds and purples and

beds still to be planted watched in shade from the

seated wooden cupola hu

Spring’s late warm sun

has brought the crowds to Buxton

ocking to the pavilio

lining up for ice cream

like a petrol rationing queu

An old gentlema

seemingly the self imposed guardian of St. Annes Wel

is regaling tales of the public perpetual owing waters

commentating on its ow and temperatur

as one and all ll their plastic ve litre bottle

fl
m

fi
n

fl
n

fi

fl
e

and informing those willing to listen just how good it

makes a brew of te

Then home via the A6

through Stockport and later in the evenin

a Cheung Wah takeaway

of king prawn chow mein and fried ric

oh and a good Ceylon

brewed with Buxton spring wate

and the sage was quite righ

it does make the most perfect cupp

a

To the End of the Thame

Canons look out at Coalhouse For

guarding the reaches protecting the por

Oil tankers and caravans berth side by sid

a refiner’s flue breathes fire in the sk

Chalkwell to Westcliff a great pavilio

pretty flower tiered gardens spring through to winte

The world’s longest pier it’s starting to rai

so walk to the end and return by the trai

Boating from Thorpe Bay breeze sails to the wes

messages in bottles at Shoeburynes

Lovers of solitude windswept and wil

shrieks of the gulls at the rise of the tid

s

Tunbridge Well

Pantiles and antique

wooden floors crea

pavements and column

spa water in volume

while away the da

in tea shops and cake

with walnuts and date

s

Tupperware and Gonk

Plastic boxes round and squar

clear, pink and blue Tupperwar

Parties for the mums smarties for the kid

all you'll ever need beneath those airtight lid

The only reason I ever tagged alon

was the promise of a homemade gon

Indestructible after all these year

is all my mothers Tupperwar

Years and years turn into yonk

what happened to those friendly gonk

s

 Tuther Side of Valle

Tuther side of valley from Burnle

above the Ribble meadow

giant clover, big and thick as thumb

creeps and climbs towards Clithero

Pendle Hil

pron

like a drowsy drago

under midsummer lenticular cloud

invade the eart

with irisation beam

and ream

and ray

in the sweltering hea

waiting to be coole

by the dew of the dales after sundow

e

Two Sides of the Yarra Rive

High on a rise Kangaroo Poin

across the river city glittering light

But under the bridge shacks hidden awa

for migrants and settlers on arrivals da

r

 Venic

The waves of the Adriatic rise

and lap gently across San Marc

washing away the mist and the mask

Bridges and sighs canals weave their life

past towers and squares and crumbling facade

By night from the moonlit marbled magi

and old chandeliers

catch a glimpse of the

ghosts in floating gondola'

calling their silent cries for hel

By day to most you are a memor

to those who stay you are a par

discovering in the maze

of passage ways and place

your deep beauty

your very heart

e

Vickers Viscoun

Waiting for a plane there was such a dela

something with the engine they needed to replac

An announcement is made “it may take sometime

so we will fly in our spare plane” and all should be fin

A distant approach we all rush to the balcon

to see propellers and tin descending noisy but gentl

Ready for boarding in great leather seat

with two foot high portholes with curtains and pleat

Through rattle and vibration we take off to the sk

in an un-pressurised cabin so we can't fly too hig

Levelled out at 12,000 over valleys and mount

Flying Air UK’s last and only Vickers Viscoun

t

 Waiting For a Train at Brussels Midi Statio

Brussels Mid

once while waitin

to connec

with the Cologne Expres

I sat and watche

these great iron engine

pulling i

rolling ou

then the biggest of al

a great grey green eastern machin

rumbled in slowl

it’s old creaking wagon

faded in gloo

dusty chandelier

empt

excep
y

 in a dimly lit carriag

an old lad

hidde

behind veil and lac

a countess perhap

returning to Warsaw
n

Waiting for the Su

Its cold outsid

the streets are whit

I walk for miles

with the thought of warmth insid

The rain is falling

the avenues are we

faces are col

nobody care

The wind is blowin

storm laden but silen

branches beckonin

but the gardens are privat

How long have I travelle

through seasons of changin

how much longer

shall I be waiting for the sun

d

Wakes Week Seems Like a Lifetime Ag

Morecambe’s fresh air and fu

from industrial towns to the su

Whence paddle boats once steame

now only in dream

The art deco Midland Hote

across the bay to lakeland dell

Vikings were Heysham’s legac

now day trippers sail on the Isle of Man ferrie

Blackpool’s treasure, pier and towe

pleasure amusements fill the hour

As the wild wind whips up the san

the pies and chips are in deman

Promenade ablaze with bulb webbed light

burn long and well into autumn night

s

 Wale

Land of valley

and dam

hills and moonscape

wild rugged castles stand firm on the shore

flags flying hig

flapping in the win

whilst a dragon breathes its flam

and watches over destin

s

Washed Ashor

Riding the wave

for many year

adventures and sea

and sailors tear

only to be washed ashor

in some tropical lan

as paradise decline

lies the barnacle covere

Guinness ca
n

 Wast

Don't drop the waste in my back yar

says wh

says the peopl

say

but not the governmen

Contamination

under our soil

in our sea

but not on the steps of Whitehal

pleas

Fall out

drop ou

reports what a wash out

all that’s left is

a population wipe ou
I

 Wate

In these times of drough

what about the water undergroun

reservoirs to catch the rai

all our rivers streams and lake

Are we an island all at se

or just the victims of a utilit

Water Boards and water rate

why don’t we desalinat

Water to drink, wash and us

consumption high the pro ts rus

health and hygiene sanitar

rates or meters for the war

Old mains are cracked causing leakag

replacements needed to stem the seepag

dripping droplets from the tap

left unchecked will ll the bat

r

fi
e

fl
fi
y

Toxic nitrates from our farm

contamination causing har

they add the uoride and the chlorin

if it kills the bugs it must be poiso

Still water from a bottle or artesian wel

to cleanse the body to bathe our cell

pure and precious this is our righ

as water keeps us all aliv

fl
e

 Waterfront at Liverpoo

Lights across the rive

shimmering silentl

on waves of dream

The sounds of the cit

for an instan

call m

to their hear
e

Waving at trains between Grindleford and Hathersage

and the Peak District Cowboy

The East Midlands diesel venting its smok

rattles for 46 minutes between Shef eld and Stockpor

or sometimes a little longer with that stationary wai

between stations for that freight train running lat

Its wondrous journey exposed

to those unplugged from android devices,

mobile tablets, gadgets and the lik

rumbling through the Edale Valle

In a suspension of ne misty drizzle and foggy hollow

or when the sun shines on the mossy high peak hills

and the shimmering electric shale grey crag

the dry stone walls blanket the steep viridian eld

like my granny’s best patchwork quil

fi

fi
t

fi
e

And on those bright clear day

a child peering from the upstairs windo

of a sandstone cottage waves excitedl

at my passing train

between Grindleford and Hathersag

The embankment fern frond

wilting on last nights de

welcome one to Chinley

with its single young copper beec

And then the beauty is brought suddenly down to eart

by those skeletal pylons

standing in menacing rows like dual holstered cowboy

Welcome to Hano

Lanterns on Lantau to guide them to se

can't the world realise they are all refugee'

typhoons to ride when the going gets toug

pirates to battle when the going is goo

Flying low over palm trees and san

not long to go now before they lan

the sun is shining the skies are blu

welcome back to Vietna

Back to their homeland let’s see what they bought yo

a box full of grief and a suitcase of tortur

the city gleams of one million bike

suppression supreme there are no lucky strike

Some faces are happy but most look depresse

the fighting is over they all need a res

the soldiers have guns and the tanks are their toy

welcome back to happy Hano

i

What’s In The Bag Man’s Ba

To most he was just a tidy Bag Ma

carting his mysteries

in his bright orange Sainsbury carrie

(this was before the new biodegradable ones came out

hence he got a lot of mileage out of his and when wor

then a new bag was placed over the old one

creating an ever increasing layer of histor

a new micro generatio

he once allowed me to feel its weigh

talk of black holes it was like lifting a breeze bloc

So to many he was a kind of accepted outcas

as he regularly attended Mass, Holy Days of Obligation

and devotions in the parishes mother churc

in his uniform donkey jacket and scuffed brown shoe

He was slick and thin and had the sharp appearanc

of an ageing rockabilly star with a ginger greased quif

many thought he was unworthy of whom he was

and the life he live

In his younger days

he deliberately left the riches of Cornwall

to sleep in hedges by roundabouts

or a skip in a Jersey car park

from where he was once rescue

In latter years he rented a modest ground oor at in

East Londo

where he opened the doors and shared with stranger

feeding them food meant for him whilst surviving on

coffee and biscuit

giving sanctuary and shelter to even more worthy

outcasts than himsel

He was a master of the art

tramping around London’s galleries by da

with his bright bag before resting a while in St. James,

Spanish Plac
n

fl

fl
s

Eventually motor neurone disease took hol

and he refused to see those who could help hi

“They are not cutting open my skull” he would sa

“and turn me into a cabbage

and then abruptly discharged himself from hospita

in NHS pyjamas on a bus with a fare scrounged from a

passer b

So housebound he becam

until upon a visit I had to call an ambulanc

as intensive care called him into a com

the life signs on the screen got excite

when the Lords Prayer was recited

by the hospital chaplai

and someone said

they saw angels in white around his be

getting ready to carry him hom

then the bag man expired …. he was 59 years old

y

Unexpectedly there was a big turn out at his requie

It came to pass that in his younger day

he was a respected mathematicia

and teacher who inspired many into grand professions

and position

I read the scriptures at his Funeral Mas

and a horse and posh cart carried him away to res

it was a drizzly grey and muddy day underfoo

so there was newspaper in my ca

to protect my oor mat

the Telegraph and the Express would have kept him

warm in the pas

When all was said and done and aire

there was a revelation to us al

he was quite (well a bit) ric

his bag hid his wealt

and was full of bonds and share

a small fortune reall

more than just a whizz on the stock marke

s

fl
t

I only wish Sea

had lived long enoug

to own one of those new indestructible jute bag

to carry his dreams i

n

Where The Wild Garlic Grow

A solitary fell runner

weedy and bearde

against the element

on stick leg

prances like a pied wag tai

over the cattle gri

and shattered shal

through a gap in the gorse hedg

then disappears by ascensio

into the suspensio

of low slung grey clou

hanging over the moist verges

where the wild garlic grow

Ruskin’s tomb, rising loom

aloft his companion’s grave

tickled by the trickle of rai

with scenes of his lif

etched in Honistor’s green slat

s

that today nds it’s for

in gaily fonted house number plate

but still, aside the resting stone

the wild garlic grow

A single bluebir

sits atop Campbell’s headston

beneath Coniston’s Old Ma

where water runs cold and gol

in glistening iron ream

in stream

and dreams of spee

where ghosts in the mis

remember that day now long ag

and just a bit i

from the sheltered shore

the wild garlic grow

s

fi
n

In this wild wind swept lan

of late lake spring black lamb

the craggy portent pro les

of resting giant

face the heaven

and betwixt trodden path

and rich dark gras

the wild garlic grow

William and Mar

entwined

among the roots and cluster

of yellow daffodil

lie together in peac

beside their rive

free in a garden breez

and from in betwee

some simple sepulchre slab

I picked some fallen seed

from where the wild garlic grow

fi
s

Winding Lanes, Shingle and Shale and Whiffs of Ale

… Oh and Those Corpses in The Cliff

A winding lane to old Pin Mil

the Orwell sits in beauty stil

“The Butt and Oyster” rests ashor

whilst old Thames barges look forlor

Aldeburgh’s beach of shingle and shale

turns a mariner’s thoughts to mermaids and whale

fishermen bring the catch of the da

straight to the scales for sale and awa

Walberswick pier and the bridge abov

painted by Steer on the beach he love

Dunwich where the ancients lived

bones of corpses roll out of the crumbling cliff

Southwold postcards in colourful inks

whitewashed cottages and delicate pink

a quiet breeze laden with sal

a whiff in the air of beer famous mal

l

 Winte

Wiping the condensation awa

from the eyes of the hous

the window reveal

the frost and the sno

in a frozen quartz forest garde

undauntedly felin

indented with a pattern of paws across the law

The gales from Scandinavi

cut harshly over the lan

white petals twirl in a frenz

in a swirling hostile danc

The sun so readily surrender

early to the nigh

the wind rustles through the laurel

into the cobalt coloured sk

r

 Ypre

After the dying seconds of war had ebbe

Peac

But news travelled late to the sniper in wai

as the final round tolled from a rifle in hast

to take a young life and cause decades of wast

After searching all day beneath a sombre sk

we found his name

etched withi

the Menin Gat

a life so short so sad in vai

e

 Epilogu

Have you seen the land living by the breeze

Can you understand a light among the trees

Tell me all that you may know

Show me what you have to show

Tell us all today

If you know the way to blue

(Nick Drake: Way to Blue

Lyrics reproduced by permission of Bryter Layter

e

 About the cove

The painting is by the celebrated UK artist Jan Kalinski. In

1992 Jan was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis (MS)

resulting in permanent numbness of his ngers. He can no

longer hold a ne pencil or write his own name but will not

let go of a paintbrush. Visit his website and gallery at

www.jankalinski.ar

If you enjoyed the poem

and would like to know more abou

Where Art & Books Collide

Please Visi

www.johnpaulkirkham.co.u
t

fi
r

fi
 Also available
The rst anthology of poetry “In Violet”
The second anthology of poetry “Zig Zag Road
The autobiography “I Saw Her Standing There
fi