Take this morning

Morning shot.jpg

A crow, darkly black, sits

on the red, rigid beam

of a child’s playground ride

A herald to rise

on a spell

mixing colour in the air

Sleek form glimpsed in a dazzle of blue

from the sheen on those wings

stealing away

Leaving static the surrendered plaything

for a mother to push

later in the day



Struck by the morning shakes

with rising sounds that seep

through my conscious, protective curtain

and usher in the echoes of displaced energy

The tappetty clatter of a bus outside

as it dutifully stops, and then

a thrum and chortle as it shrugs away

replaced by the low ambient thread

of rattled air rising as a plane

bullies the space above Heathrow

taking dreams and commitments

along with the silent witnesses of luggage

assembled to lend comfort in displacement

The aerial beast thrumbles on a soaring note

like effervescence

and throbs away until a whisper

is replaced by birdsong

Our house, it’s apertures all open

to circulate this summer heat

is our fortress. A leaking bastion

that allows me to listen

to the world outside

our manufactured harbour

This safe place where I recognize

the wheeze and irritable chug

of the central heating.

It’s pipes and turns in dark corners

harnessing an insurrection when the pilot flares.

Pavement noises. Friction of the everyday

A lad with his skate-board rasping

against the bored, scuffed cement

and the slidings of last night’s dreams

as they evaporate on the morning air

He said; “mycelium spores”

Poets for Hire.jpg

Bob and Madge

Walk ‘Dash’

Every day in the park

like metronomes in pursuit

Of a persistent illusion

The dog, obedient but loping

is ever able to break the sound barrier

with a spurt of inherited genes.

A greyhound for Bob and Madge

Both in their eighties

Are sprightly still

And believe, I assume

They will outlive


One day I noticed a ring of mushrooms,

incongruous amongst the rough mown grass

I asked Bob, ‘ how so’?

and here I paraphrase

“these faerie rings articulate

what the earth silently knows

and how the soil accommodates

secrets that we can anticipate

with knowledge of the seasons and,


The embedded wisdom of people

concealed only until

the question is asked.”