Christmas- Past & Present*

Of all the Christmas artefacts I revered, ‘Twas a plastic Father Christmas with ‘one shilling’ on his beard 1  A mark someone made with sale in mind That somehow simply got left behind. -I vaguely remember we had a pair In order to discourage sibling despair One somehow no longer in service… Something to do with […]


What does it mean to be ‘older’ In this twenty-first century world? Is it as simple as wrinkles And hair styles permanently curled? -Or, if you’re a chap, trying to slow the fate of a gradually revealing, well-shined pate..? A disposition it’s hard to imagine As successive generations grapple with fashion, Opportunities to help them […]

Faith, Hope and Gravity*

My mother didn’t know me when I saw her yesterday. There’s really very little else to say -At least, by way of comment, For as much as I lament The fact she did not know my name, The situation will not change. The childlike innocence in her eyes Mixed with clouded adult pride, Knowing in […]

Great Expectations*

I’ve long come to the conclusion That there’s rising cause for confusion In the popular notion that Man has power To protect every animal, tree and flower Through work in the name of conservation -A complicated situation, Somehow misrepresenting the fact That whatever we do, we can never go back: We can never revoke the […]

Weekend Pending

Thursday… The weekend in waiting. A day of hope and speculating. A palpable sense of the downhill slope, A real possibility for respite and hope; For rest and relaxation Glued to a favourite TV station… Eyes glazed over, comestibles close -Anything you like from chocolate to toast, To take-away curry brought straight to the door […]

The Age of Reason*

When we were young, we wanted to grow up But none of us expected to grow old. We listened to our parents and learned from our elders And generally did as we were told… When things went wrong, we found a way To put them back together Constantly re-configuring allegiance Believing we’d been clever. The […]

The Age of Reason*

When I was young It was Oil of Ulay¹ That promised to at least allay The wrinkling of skin beholden of kin Who’d lived and worked and aged with grace, Their history narrated by the lines on their face. They’d stories to tell of their journeys through life From childhood through war time to dutiful […]