Wednesday, 22 September 2021


From The Beach

Nature is the best of artists, 

able to render down to beauty

the decayed life forms of the past

into a form that can grace my walls and shelves

and remind me of the stories about where I found them,

about where they washed up, 

the chances they took.

I strain to hear their stories,

strain to hear

the trees from Loch Ellen

once blown by the wind 

now rustling silently.

But I think the dragon fish can hear them.

He looks as if he’s speaking, 

telling them all

about his journey 

from a living tree

to driftwood on the shore

and now he’s here on my wall.

waiting for the next wave to break

waiting to see what happens.

Monday, 20 September 2021


When I was nine

I stepped on a caterpillar


stepped on

one end of a caterpillar

and it’s caterpillar shape,

bright emerald green,

shot out the other end.

Since then,

I have taken great care

never to step

on a caterpillar


Monday, 13 September 2021

 Are We Any Older?

Am I any older

my dear, tell me

I cannot tell 

can you

tell me,

are you any older,

my dear tell me

if you can 


can you tell?

Can you tell

if we have aged 

from the inside out

or the outside in

or is it just on the outside

only on the outside.

I think 

we should keep it outside.

Tell me

that we can keep it outside

my dear, tell me.

 Come On In

“Come on in the water’s lovely”

they called out to me 

with their arms outstretched

and the sweetest of smiles.

And I was tempted for sure,

their smiles were as entrancing as sirens

but their arms waving a welcome

reminded me of spiders

with their stretched out legs

waiting to pounce

in this watery web,

or the tentacles of sea anemones

whirling and waving

while awaiting their prey.

Come on in the water’s lovely




The word echoes through my head

enticing me

for sure,

entrapping me


I’ll soon find out.

 Sirens Call

I wanted to know her.

With her silken hair

hanging past her waist,

yes, I do believe she 

was sitting on it

and it was everything 

that mine was not.

It hung straight down,

Straight as a dye, 

not in the crinkly waves 

and corkscrews

that were the bane

of my life. 

And where did she find the lippy

to make those bright red lips

while sitting there on a rock

in the middle of nowhere.

They told me that she was a siren

who would lead me into temptation.

I told them that I would take a chance.

 The Lady In Red

They called her the ‘Lady in Red’

Seen only in winter walking near the trees

she emerged from the mists and muted colours

so vibrant

so colourful

so elegant,

so they said.

Should I believe them?

Could I believe them?

I hid in the trees

and waited


I think I saw her.

I don’t think she saw me,

except maybe

as a figment of her imagination

or a face hanging out in her dream.

Sunday, 12 September 2021

 Flight Of Fancy

Fly with me my fancy man

and I’ll take you to places 

that you haven’t been,

but only if that’s what you fancy.

We’ll flit over mountains flapping our wings 

on our magical flight of fancy.

We’ll hover above cities of silver and gold,

and stopover wherever we fancy.

Come fly with me, my fancy man,

and find a little of what you fancy.

But hold on tight as we climb up

close to the sun, then go 

sliding down moonbeams

avoiding the planets, way over the spires

and the earth towers, over the clouds,

right out of the rain showers.

There’s no plain sailing for us in my fancies.

Then hold on tight as we start speeding down, 

down under the clouds in our fancy

we’re still tripping the light fantastic.

But we’re frantic to find our fantasy land

at the end of our flight of fancy.