Greetings from Menton!

A town emerges, gently, house by house,

Out of my misty morning memory.

Terracotta rooftops naively painted,

Against the feeling of a bright blue sky,

Where outbound and incoming tourists fly.

Menton, where pale consumptives came to die,

Entombed in the hill-top cemetery,

Where, out of breath, I decided to sit,

By William Webb Ellis who, ...

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My five-year-old grandson, William,

Has a fine way with words, it seems.

He knows how to create a sensation,

He knows how to go to extremes.

Today, he put his ‘grandad biscuit’,

Into the pocket of his jeans.

‘,

Later, the crumbs were all over the car!

I was driving a mobile crumb machine!

“My biscuit literally exploded, grandad,

Like nothing you have ever seen!

The...

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Thank you for the birthday golf balls, Adam and Scarlett.

Sorry they are all lost!

Ripped away from their cardboard womb,

Shimmering, naked, on the kitchen table,

Pristine, proud, and blindingly new,

They shake off their naïve foetal slumber,

Rolling off their shiny wooden green,

Onto the rough of the kitchen floor.

Like soldiers from the First World War,

Quick...

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It began as a sparkle, a mere glint of the eye,

Rolling down your cheek, with a hint of emotion,

A misty water vapour, from cloud in your sky,

Filling broad streams in those mountains up high.

On a fast, rolling river, surging deep and wide,

I cascade, uncontrolled, on a white-water ride,

At the mercy of rocks on the Severn Bore tide,

I hurtle past speedboats on this rive...

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I search across this ancient valley,

Through the mists of time to a distant shore,

Counting the scars of industrial toil,

Of abandoned mills not needed anymore.

This land was carved out in the Ice Age,

With huge rocky boulders at its core.

So, what we often call our heritage,

Was erected by insects, just like me,

And lasted just a mere pinprick of time;

An acne grow...

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This train bisects the landscape,

Between the ebbing land and the flowing sea.

This train is belching gouts of steam,

Hurtling onwards to the edge of my dreams.

This train is flying through the dark night,

Leaving oblivion in search of the light.

This train is chugging through tall forest pines,

The sunshine is dappled and the air smells fine.

This train has closed car...

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Hi Everyone,

I have produced my third collection of poetry, 'Away with Words,'  I can't seem to stop!

It's available on Amazon for £7.99 paperback, £2 on Kindle.

As with the first two, all proceeds go to the Teenage Cancer Trust.

If you buy it, I hope you enjoy it.  It is my masterpiece!

The picture captures the River Derwent in Malton, just next to the  bus station.

With love to...

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Nine months old, sat safely on the floor,

She doesn’t need holding anymore.

We have video called to see how Juju’s grown.

Juliet sits blinking into daddy’s phone.

You can see her thinking, ‘Who are these two then?’

They seem to like it when I clap my hands.

I will treat them to it once again.

I will gurgle cutely and then say, ‘Wow!’

                           I have e...

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As a student I sought accommodation,

To fight Yorkshire winters on my own,

A vital part of my education,

Apt preparation for what life has shown:

A two up, two down on Burley Road.

Back-to-backs in tight formation,

In narrow streets deprived of light,

Where desperate families in a constant fight,

Showed cobble-stoned determination,

Selling their souls just to make e...

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Uprooted by a passing storm,

Like a diving swimmer his limbs stretch out,

Capturing the very moment, in perpetuity,

When he perfected his final plop.

He part-straddles now the Rochdale Canal, in limbo,

As his arms are pinioned by slime and mud.

There was nowhere else for the tree to go,

An original oak escaping the wood,

And someone has lopped his head right off!

This tr...

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July entered with hurricane ferocity,

Blowing our front door right in,

Smashing open the letterbox,

With ricocheting echoes

Throughout the house.

Like a truculent teenager,

July slammed the bedroom door,

And broke a flower vase,

With her clumsy paws,

Before hurling the garden chairs

Hither and thither, everywhere,

Whilst sighing heavy raindrops

Upon our soggy l...

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Mother told me never to snore,

And not to raid the biscuit jar.

Yet more advice which didn’t get far.

She said, “I can’t raise you anymore.

 Take problems to your girlfriend’s door!”

“A tuppenny pie,” my mother said,

“Always costs fourpence once you’re wed!”

She said, “When the bills come in,

Just stay in your bed!

And if bailiffs arrive, say ‘Do your worst!’

Mak...

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The baggy green caps

Have now changed their feet around, 

So we have no chance! 

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After Vernon Scannell

      Learning to walk, begets learning to ride.

It was high time five-year-old William tried

to test out his bike on our back lawn,

Where the grass is soft, the terrain is flat.

What can go wrong in a garden like that?

Steady at first, William lost control,

Careering wildly to the flower bed,

Towards the blossoming scarlet roses

Where chi...

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After Vernon Scannell

Every day demands a new persona.

A different man is putting on my clothes.

Mister Grumpy in his grey pullover,

Who’s determined to tell you what he loathes.

A gentle carer awakes next morning,

Swiftly attending his relatives’ needs,

Helpfully heeding anxious warnings,

Nurturing all of his precious fresh seeds.

The libertine waste...

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We like to revisit nursery rhymes,

The rise and fall of a steady beat,

Redolent of much simpler times,

And the pitter patter of tiny feet.

When dad sang those rhymes to me

 As I was perched upon his knee,

My induction into life’s poetry,

I imbibed their rhythms and cadence.

‘Oh, the grand old Duke of York,

He had ten thousand men.’

 “I’m making pee-pee, Grandad!”

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They trained us all in tinpot barracks,

In due preparation for the fight,

The Protestants stationed on the left,

Catholics stuck out on the right.

On all our lives they would legislate,

Who to love and who to hate,

What to say and when to pray,

When to answer in the affirmative

And, definitely, when to say nay!

 They marched us off to the battle of life,

Sha...

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The sun shone bright, the air was still,

The day was ours; the wine was chilled.

So, we took a walk to enjoy our life.

“It’s great to have feelings for a woman,”

I observed,

“And to know that woman is your wife.”

Strangely, living brought thoughts of dying,

As we sat on Ting Taylor’s rickety bench,

Where we shared a salty tear or two,

And expressed our love for each...

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My grandson, William, had a huge surprise,

When he heard a knock and answered the door,

To Luigi from the Mario Brothers

William couldn’t quite believe his eyes,

Until his grandad’s moustache fell off,

Ruining Luigi’s shallow disguise.

His face had frozen; time had stood still.

Fantasy had fused with reality, momentarily.

“This is grandad’s outfit, Will,

Ready for y...

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You slip old worries in your pocket,

as you take that road, sublime,

dodging crowds inside the Market Place,

because you want to take your time.

There’s a sunset over Charleston,

and the air is mighty fine.

There is nothing to get back for,

so, you stop by for some wine!

This is happiness on a hillside,

breathing in geraniums,

combined with columbine.

It’s a s...

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This time it’s personal.

Books are a beautiful adornment,

To brighten any living room,

Hinting at breeding, adding some charm,

By showing off one’s Austens in full bloom.

Books do make ideal coasters,

On which to rest one’s mugs of tea,

Gifts for birthdays, and for Christmas,

But please don’t give one to me!

I am The Reluctant Reader,

A retired English teac...

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My attic, garage, and rooms housing beds,

Are stuffed to the rafters with colourful books:

Impressive and ancient, hard-backed, sublime,

In pristine condition but mostly unread.

I sneak past them all, with furtive looks,

Avoiding their bitter, silent resentment.

Tonight, I will go straight to sleep, instead.

These Classic works of English fiction,

These Masterpieces of...

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He stands stock still and holds the barrel straight.

“Say, don’t shoot!” he orders, looking at me,

Locating his target, unblinkingly.

He allows for distance, speed, trajectory.

“Don’t shoot, don’t shoot,” I cry.

“I’m grandad, I don’t want to die!”

He laughs and fires straight at me.

“You little rotter, you have hit my head,”

William laughed, yet again,

And turn...

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At the inaugural meeting

Of my mother’s Care Home

One-Day Escape Committee,

Just two stragglers gathered,

At a sun-drenched table

Outside the Old Lodge,

With a coffee and a chocolate cake,

Pure brown nectar and some sugary stodge!

We’d escaped the Community Lounge malaise!

Item One:  Inordinate praise.

“Mum, you’re amazing!  I’m so proud of you!”

This wasn’t e...

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A butterfly, pinioned to a wheel,

Helplessly hankers for the sky up above.

We, too, are governed by the pain we feel,

When banished from the world of love.

Unhappy bodies don’t heal.

Dark minds conceive of plots all around,

Conspiracies lie thick on the ground,

We’re tormented by all the secrets concealed.

Ulcers fester when blood won’t congeal.

Unhappy bodies don’t...

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Where, oh, where does the sky begin?

It is as hard to define as ‘success,’ or ‘sin!’

These abstract nouns do my head right in!

Maybe the sky starts next to the ground,

Maybe I’ve been wandering around,

For so very many years

With my head in the clouds…

Where, oh, where does love begin?

And when, or where, does it end?

Is it a word to apply when I need a friend?

L...

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Euro bosses and the Premier League

Have prostituted the game we love

To watch on the BBC and Sky TV,

Collapsed on the sofa with footie fatigue.

As our goalie dons his sponsored gloves,

They switch us to adverts from Bet 365,

“What are the odds, now, that Leeds will survive?”

What price will be paid for Leeds going down,

In gate receipts and player recruitment?

...

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Let me take you back to ’74,

Showaddywaddy, Mud, and ‘Tiger Feet,’

When love came knocking on my door,

From the kindest girl one could ever meet.

We walked to the bus stop, hand in hand,

And I kissed her, sweetly, as we said goodnight!

I felt completeness, ‘Under the Moon of Love,’

And all my world felt good and right.

Responsibility overwhelmed my nascent soul!

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Every garden needs a journey,

I have heard it said.

So, I lugged my paving slabs,

Zigzagging them, crazily, across the lawn,

Placing them carefully so as to coincide

With where the grass was unevenly worn.

I’m not Alan Titchmarsh,

But I could always pretend,

As I lay those flagstones, step by step,

Towards the rockery at journey’s end.

Every life should have a ...

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We plunder the earth,

For all it is worth

For our twenty seventh new

Pair of shoes, to sit unused,

Upon the rack.

They don’t really fit,

But we can’t take them back.

Put it on the plastic, dear.

Never fear. We can afford to pay,

Starvation wages

To foreign workers we will never see,

Who put guinea pigs in cages,

Before they eat them for their tea.

I...

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I stand upon this tree-lined hilltop,

The view is fine, it’s picturesque.

The air is clear, if rather cold,

I think of myself as Newtonesque,

Standing, not on the shoulders of giants,

But on a century of a miner’s spoils,

Overlaid with some garden soil.

This was a coal mine, a generation ago,

Covered up, like a battered wife’s bruise,

And handed back to Nature’s charms,

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Mr Plague began his European Tour,

With intriguing new places to explore,

Reaching the town of Stratford

In the Summer of 1564.

Three hundred were killed, in no time at all.

The town was laid low, in dire dejection.

No one knew where his axe might fall.

Doctors were helpless. They couldn’t do more,

So fearful were they of this dread infection!

Should we castiga...

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I have always known that May Poles existed.

Obviously, I knew that they were a ‘thing,’

that hippies happily danced around them,

whilst twirling bits of coloured string,

but I never understood a May Pole’s majesty,

until the coronation of the king.

At first, the lines were jumbled about,

Criss-crossing, into a hopeless mess,

Until a signal came to ‘work it out,’

Th...

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In the early morning quietude,

When the light bleeds into the dark,

Cogs whirr and rusty batteries spark,

As I strike a poetic attitude!

Ah, the gentle hum of central heating!

The warmth of neurones connecting,

Sending the blood back to my brain,

Ideas splutter, retreat, reformulate,

Released, again, into my mind.

Words, fermenting for a lifetime,

Which bottle wi...

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I went to The Wentworth with my dear, old mum,

a treat for surviving the lockdown in her flat.

We sat in the corner, well away from the draft.

A man at the bar was staring at me.

He was stocky, not tall, but his look was hard,

And his attitude was surly, which put me on guard!

Was this a throwback to my reckless youth?

Was I about to face the moment of truth?

My nervou...

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Taking a path, I'd seldom trod,

stumbling over rocks and logs,

a clumsy sod.

Wandering lonely, no way through,

exits barred by swollen streams,

and fallen yews.

Plagued by frustration and by doubt,

seeking solutions in a pathless wood,

with no way out.

I looked to the sky to see what to do,

Beseeching heaven, as the woods closed in,

and I didn't have...

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Two figures are cresting the distant hill,

Edging, ant-like, to the top of the pike,

Leading a long line of intrepid ants,

 On a futile climb to a pointless summit!

Yearning, striving, that’s what ants are like!

Without doubt they will glance down to the right,

Viewing my own house with a wan, wry smile.

Such small, ant-people seem to live down there,

Tiny, tedio...

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At weddings and funerals, a whole raft

of feelings are borrowed or assumed,

to conform with the prevailing winds.

Joy and sadness require different kinds,

of studied poses and adopted attitudes,

before the alcohol can be consumed.

My emotions are prudently overlaid,

corresponding to the needs of the time.

I search inside for the right response,

adopting the style to...

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My grandson, who is four, called me “bold” today,

I was honoured and flattered, I have to say.

I thought of myself as a hero, up for the fight,

Noble and fearless, defending all that is right.

Courageously confronting trouble and strife!

And William knows me well enough,

He’s known me all his life!

“I said bald, grandad, I didn’t mean ‘bold!

It is what happens to men w...

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I approached a cortege on the churchyard road,

a sombre-eyed crew in navy and black.

I hesitated. What was the form here?

Did I have to turn back?

I pressed on, regardless. I had pressing jobs to do.

So, I overtook the hard-faced retinue,

who had firmly fastened their iron masks,

maintaining the appropriate demeanour,

learned from the mountains of books and art.

Eve...

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In the unexpected, blessed sunshine of Spring,

I found myself, unexpectedly, weeding,

at the top of our grimly Wintered Garden.

Was I dreaming? I opened, wide, my eyes.

The garden, too, seemed to share my surprise.

“What are you doing here?” she said.

"You didn’t bother last year, dear,

or much, indeed, the year before!”

I blanked the garden as I thought her rude!

 I don...

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I sat down beside my sunlit grandson,

gazing down into the sparkling lake,

whilst he randomly added twigs and leaves,

to the debris wrought by Winter’s floods.

One crinkled old leaf, a veiny old chap,

took my eye beneath the gloom,

 buried, as he was, in a watery tomb.

How had he arrived at this soggy end?

Which currents or breezes had brought him here?

What fate ha...

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These rooms are  cleaner, tidier now,

Shorn of their clutter, anyhow.

 Mum’s flat echoes, to my heavy tread,

as I pace to the beat of an empty drum,

gathering mem’ries of my dear old mum.

I lean across her dining table,

To eat some food, where she last fed.

Her chair is empty, but still bears the scars,

The detritus of her toast and jam.

faint vestiges of mum’s cu...

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I got the driving back to Malton,

On the endless A64 blues!

I can’t listen to the radio,

I don’t want to hear the news!

All the dire warnings

And all the tedious queues!

I got the driving back to Malton,

On the endless A64 blues!

Stuck behind some tractors,

And a mobile port-a-loo,

I’ve missed yet another meeting,

This is a right fine how-do-do! 

I got the ...

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Ohnoitshimagain!

Hi All

I have produced a second collection of poetry.  This time it's my life story in poetry, 'All Roads lead to Malton:

Poetry, to remember.' (it's better than it sounds!)

 It's available on Amazon:

https://amzn.eu/d/0wCRYuZ 

All proceeds go to the Teenage Cancer Trust  and it's only £6.99.

Thanks go to everyone who bought 'Released on Licence.'

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A bus conductor, based in Texas,

Was sentenced to the electric chair,

For throwing old ladies off the bus.

His aim was notoriety.

His infamy was established, thus.

Now, not all states still have the Chair,

But Texas keeps that 'facility' there,

So, Harry was considered unlucky.

But, then again, not nearly as unlucky,

As the poor old ladies, he threw off the bus!

...

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It was the dawning of an Ice Age,

The Winter of 1963,

An eerie silence, an uneasy calm,

We were all cut adrift on Malton Road,

No cars were moving in, or out.

We clapped our hands to keep them warm

And wore our coats inside the house.

I fashioned a path through the frozen snow,

A fearless youngster, with nerves of steel,

Digging on, with snow above my head,

...

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I need my father and my brother back,

Their sins and crimes I will overlook!

I just need my family nearer to me,

To provide more material for another book.

Let’s drink, once more from the loving cup!

Let’s toast “The Family!” with dry champagne!

(I just hope Wills doesn’t beat me up,

Or throw me out when he starts to reign!)

I do have a beautiful actor-wife,

An...

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Our Scene is set in Cape Canaveral,

At a Space Convention, held in the U.S. of A.,

The major players were speaking there,

And they all had plenty to say,

Projects exploring outer space,

Daring, audacious, in every way.

Boris Johnson spoke up for the good old U.K.

He was chipper, smug, lively, and bright.

Boris made some rocket noises,

So, he judged the tone just rig...

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Mister and Missus Potato-Head,

had a lovely young daughter called Jean.

Some beautiful spuds grew in their bed,

but Jean was the finest they’d ever seen,

and now it was time that she was wed!

Jean Potato-Head was to be a fine bride!

Mister Potato-Head took her aside,

she needed an adult potato’s advice,

for in affairs of the heart, she was green.

“You can have...

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