Like a shining sixpence perfect cloud
Why waste your light at bright noon day?
For when darkness cloaks us with her shroud
Who will light our way?

Sleeping on sofas, sleeping on floors
Friends are her family
Her mother abroad

Little miss nobody, pin-ball girl
Says why are you being so nice to me
It's our job says the nurse
As she stitches her hand
Everyone is somebody

You folks are amazing
You really care
Best phone the hostel
Tonight I'll go there

So vulnerable
Naive, street-wise in equal measure
If you had a family
You would be their treasure

The atom he wanted to split
But didn't quite manage it
So he changed his tack
And instead of that
Wrote a limerick

Granny swings her glasses round
              Celebrates
    ( She was a cheerleader )

A country tale from round these parts
Concerning potatoes none too large
Now over the hedge as he rode by
Old Dibber had a little spy

There was his neighbour, fork and all
Digging up spuds, but they were quite small.
With a cheer he blurted out
"Your spuds aren't much to shout about!"

Quick and sharp came the retort
"They're made for my mouth ba, not yours!"

Little boats bob
Big boats glide
There's life in the mud
An ancient church
And a pub on the other side

Wild flowers bloom in the sun
Protected by the churchyard wall
Inside rows of box pews facing East
Well maintained at least

Oddly laying at the back
A sarcophagus carved in stone
No doubt a gardener
Would value as a planter

No one comes these days she says
Pouring water in the font
Flowers ready
Only people such as us

Satisfied we sacrifice a coin
Pop it in the slot
Walk back past the tower round
The congregation underground
Through the lilting seabird song to find
Ham egg and chips and a drink
Just to wet the lips
It's the Summer time

If you think the moon has a soul
And the trees are whispering your name
If you can feel the pulse of a mountain
And see advancing armies in the clouds
Start writing, you're thinking like a poet

There was a young man from Zagreb
Whose pencil ran out of lead
He went to the quack
Whose answer to that
Was use a biro instead

There was a vicar from the Tyne
Who put all his sermons online
A woman wrote please,
I'm weak at the knees
Here's my address, what's thine?

The Prime Minister went for a walk
Invited a woman to talk
She said  "If you want a bang you can jolly well scram"
He said  Do you know who I am?"

She's so happy with the teeth dear
Now they're perfect,  pearly white
And she's looking at the rest dear
'Cos she's heard of Mack the Knife

It's those crows feet round the eyes oh
Keep those ******* way out of sight
And those wondrous thunder thighs oh
They're going under Mackey's knife

She's been thinking of her friends babe
Dearest Lotte and sweet Lucy Brown
Oh how jealous they will be babe
Once old Mackey's gone to town

She's withdrawing all her cash now
She'll be poor but look so right
Someone's taking all her stash now
And that someone's Mack the Knife

Slumping back in your chair
You hardly move your head
Gazing straight ahead you look
Like the living dead

Your feet are swollen like balloons
With little piggy toes
How you stayed alive this long
Heaven only knows

Your belly looks as though
It's about to pop
You're looking nine months pregnant
And about to drop

I'm sure you're very clever
But hardly very wise
When's the last time
You took some exercise?

-After Diana-                                              
The paparrazi are nobody's friend            
It all seems such a pity
He shouldn't have trained his big long lens
On her poor little Bristol Cities

-After Maggie-
When the daisies push up with Maggie beneath
To mark her grave will be taking a chance
For some may come to lay a wreath
But others will come to dance

-After the war-
The Argentine girl was all smiles
All went well between us
I didn't mention the Falkland Isles
And she didn't say Las Malvinas

When the sun comes rising up
On a brand new day

When shooting stars score the sky
And quickly fade away

When lark ascends in the fields
Flying high and free

When robin sings his little song...
Spare a thought for me


When the oak in springtime rain
Wakens from the dead

When the sun behind the wood
Glows a winter red

When starlings race and fall to roost
Then chatter in the cover

Think of me even if...
Your hand is in another

The churchyard was nearly full up
Just one vacant, desirable plot
When a hand-written sign appeared,
It's message to all crystal clear

This plot take note I've reserved it
For one in the parish who wholly deserves it
All Ten Commandments he has observed
And faithfully his community served
So here shall lie at the end of his life
Fred the cobbler and Gracie his wife

As word got round the village saw red
To a parish meeting they summoned old Fred
There are others who wish to lay there too
This plot does not belong to you

Finally all the arguments stopped
It was first come first served for the last plot
So Fred quit the pills, became very ill
And what he wanted he got

There was not much to do down at the zoo
They were all getting bored, wouldn't you?
The keeper was called, we're out of our minds
Help us out, if you'd be so kind

The keeper said, so what can I do?
I'd like to help but give me a clue

Well, said the giraffe it may sound daft
But I've always wanted to play the harp
You know what,  said the baboon
I would like a big bassoon
The emu said, I really do feel
A hankering after a glockenspiel
The lemur requested a violin
Certain he'd coax a tune from the thing
The elephants stood all in line
Already they could trumpet in time
The gorilla said he could use his thumb
To bang away on a big bass drum

They all got their wish, it was quite a scene
And proudly they played God Save the Queen

cold today
wind from the North

sit by the fire
read a bit
then fix the door

dog walk, pull my coat tighter
carry a notebook
pretend I'm a writer

stare at the wall
the wall of the cave at Lascaux
Swimming Stags
see what the cave man saw

That shooting star the other night
You said it was a sign
I think it was our satellite
'Cos I can't get online

That shooting star the other night
You said make a wish
I wish I had, I would have said
Please don't hurt our dish

Have you seen the twisted spire?
It is a sight you will admire

They say 'twas when a lass was wed
When not a ****** to altar led

And that one day it will straighten anew
When one there marries a maiden true

Five steps or five thousand                                        
Her gait is just the same

Poets, painters
Can be tortured souls

But gardeners
Are at one with the world

No screens flash
No keyboard clicks

A woman she must prove her worth
Hood up, body bent
Her conversation polite

But minimal
Her gaze steadfast
Down to earth

Her gloved hands
Coaxing life from the bedraggled
Winter flower bed

Jay                                                                      Horatio

By the door in the flower ***                            The man who planted all these trees
Among the beans in the veggie plot                Alas I knew him well
In the lawn, everywhere -little oak trees-         He did not see them to maturity
Do you know who puts them there?                How long our years we cannot tell

I've only ever seen it once                                  Now strong and spreading to their prime
He does it when you're not around                  They seem to thank him for their chance of life
He does it taking lots of care                             In gratitude they sway and soar
He puts an acorn in the ground                        And breathe for him as he can breathe no more

He thinks he's coming back to it                      We thank the Jay for acorns
When he feels the need                                      Unwittingly he sows
But mostly he forgets                                         And plant like him we must
So germinates the seed                                       Although like him we may not see them fully grow

                                       As I look up at this fresh green canopy
                                             I think of all the tiny saplings
                                                   And of what will be

-          Wheel turns full circle           -
       Don Quixote would approve
-          Windmills used again           -

You can never conquer me
I won't be bought or sold
I can take away your looks
I can make you old

I can be the enemy
I can sit and bide
Always an enigma
Sometimes on your side

Ever am I constant
Slowly passing by
When you just forget me
That's when I can fly

You can mark my passing
With an anxious frown
You can measure
You can treasure
But never slow me down

A constant disappearing
Like footprints in the sand
You can try to cheat me
But you'll never beat me
I hold the winning hand

A wedding coming up, that's nice
Put some pink champagne on ice

A little son for Pam and Ted-
Better wet the baby's head

Cyril died for goodness sake
Get some beers in for the wake

Paddy says he saw his ghost
Must be worth a little toast

Rabbie Burns night guess the plan
Old Lang Syne then a dram

Talking business I've a hunch
Could involve a liquid lunch

Dear John news comes in a letter
Have a brandy you'll feel better

Internet gone on the blink
Enough to drive a man to drink

Not that I take much you see
Just a little socially

At this time of year Winter's grip is left behind
In every corner little signs of Spring we find
Birds are pairing up, snowdrops brave the chill
Life in the earth begins to stir
And yes, I love you still

Working all alone today
I cannot help but smile
No distractions
No disturbance
My thoughts can range for backstreet miles

The hay is cut, the weather fine
Work is going well
Drifting over ripening wheat
The sound of village bells

A bucket dipped into the pond
Brings glitter lentil soup
No traffic noise, no people here
Just insect buzz and pigeon bill and coo

Today a day of solitary
Today a day for poetry

Ascend and crown the sky, amazing lark
You cannot know what joy you bring
To this winter-weary heart

Bumble on, friendly bee
You do not know how vital is your art

And what relief to see the tiny leaf unfurl
On the grand old oak
Who shunned all vestments through the winter's chill
But now puts on his greenest summer cloak

Come swallows, fast and low
Perform your aeronautic feats (like spitfires)
Swimming through the air
Skimming o'er the growing wheat

Comfrey on the river bank
Milkmaids in the meadow damp
Cow's parsley with its lacy bobbin'  heads
Dandelion's golden threads

My heart feels part, as if re-born
Of this rejuvenating summer dawn

Let's go outside
Swifts are scything high
The last to cry the sun good night
Wings are beating then they glide

Let's walk round the meadow
As we like to do
We could be Summer gypsies you and I
Watch each day in pastel shades give way

All is kind, mild and soft
Daylight graced away
As we survey our sanctuary
Far from the maddening, saddening motorway

A fragile film of mist hangs above the meadow flowers
We wonder at the science of it
As nature's breath is blown aside
Like a magic trick

We could stay out here all night
Be Summer gypsies you and I
But we are tied
Signed up to this, bound by that
Anchored, rooted to the workaday

Come inside, for we must sleep
We need to sleep
Let the night its gentle solstice secrets keep

On the side of the country lane a wooden post holds a sign indicating the route of a public footpath. Hardly a mile goes by without passing another one, maybe more. They don't stand out, so common they hardly register as we motor by. Some of us have explored where they lead, others have not.

Some follow hedgerows, ditches; others strike across open fields. Wherever they are, the landowner has a legal obligation to allow free unhindered public access. Growing crops must be cut or sprayed to keep paths clear.

Many of these paths were formed by country folk walking to church, work or market, taking the shortest route across the fields. In 1948 they were recognised and given legal status on the definitive map.

Close to villages the paths are well used. In more remote areas some are barely walked from one year to the next. Even so, they are still legal rights of way.

The celebrated fell wanderer Alfred Wainwright put together his famous Coast to Coast walk by connecting existing rights of way to form a continuous route from the Atlantic to the North Sea, passing through three National Parks.

Almost a kind of accident of history, the footpath network is now a National Treasure.

I've been sifting through
the scrawls and scribbles
written on some whim

passed by, not followed up
like lights that shine too dim

anyone can write a poem
it seems innate somehow
anyone can write a poem
except for me right now

My old man's a dustman
He's in the pub today
He'd be there all the bloomin' time
If he had his way

My old man's a dustman
He don't give it's all take
He plays his banjo late at night
And keeps us all awake

My old man's a dustman
He loves his missus so
He wouldn't swap her for the world
I think she'd swap him though

My old man's a dustman
He once met the Queen
He kept his hands behind his back
'Cos they weren't very clean

My old man's a dustman
He's really quite a card
Friday night he'll take you on
If you think you're 'ard

My old man's a dustman
He knows my Auntie Jean
Every time she sees him
She does a little scream

My old man's a dustman
Making no mistake
When he finally pops his clogs
There'll be quite a wake

When the words don't seem to fit                                                     
When the spot they just don't hit 
I re-visit my friend                                              
Shake him again                            
Good old Mr Limerick                                       


There is a young woman from Dunbar                     
Who jogs but never too far
She carries a snickers                                                   
Insid­e her knickers                                                        
­And a mars bar in her bra                                            


-Stretch limo-
So much length it had gained                                      
To drive it was really a pain                                        
So they put on the wheels                                            
Tyres of steel                                                            ­                               
And turned it into a train                                             


Mesmerised for a while
By those eyes which so beguile
The men she meets
Fall at her feet
But why such sadness in her smile?


A pretty young thing from Milan
Had a beautiful tan
She enticed married men
Into loving again
And then the **** hit the fan


She used to be happy, fulfilled and carefree
As wild as white horses out on the sea
Now she's no fun
What has become
Of the girl she used to be

Not one to visit graves
I find the dead poor company

I might look closer at the lichen
Or observe the yew tree canopy
Or read the names just to see how fashions change

But for those left lying there
I don't see them, they don't see me
One day I'll be like them
Scarce a memory

So I said to this German chappie
If there were ten green bottles hanging on the wall
and one green bottle should accidentally fall
how many green bottles would there be
hanging on the wall,
you do speak English?
Nein he said

So I turned to this Frenchman I said
There's a strange smell around here
Don't you think?
He said  oui
I said I think you're right old son

Je suis seule
Je suis enceinte
Le vent me dit
Rentrez, vous n'etes pas assez forte
Je reste ici

Les etoiles seront mes copains
Le ciel mon abri
Je dormirai avec les pierres
La pluie me lave

Mes souvenirs, l'amour
Sont perdus
Je n'ai pas besoin de l'argent
Demain n'existe pas
Seulement le silence
Et un papillon

He asked me for advice one day
I told him bite the bullet
It's the only way

He said you're right, I will, I will

Now he's got a dentist bill
And asking me to pay

Great news Marjorie!

I have had tasar treatment on my eyes, so I am finding my keyboard much easier to abuse.

What a week I have had!  Since you sent my letter to the local paper, I have had several people contact me. I had no idea the scribbles of an old woman like me could generate such interest. A young reporter  even called round, and I thought I was going to have to call an ambulance, the poor boy went red and laughing all the time. In fact I was certain he needed medical attention but he assured me he would be fine in a minute. He did not tell me what it was he found so amusing, but young people can be quite strange, don't you find?  He may have needed the toilet but was too shy to ask.

Despite this we did get on well, and he even said he wished I was his Grandma, which I thought was very sweet of him, while making odd gestures with his hands.

After we had enjoyed a mice cup of tea together I showed the young man around the garden and he seemed very interested in the greenhouse, remarking on its spaciousness. I asked if he had green fingers and rather enigmatically he replied  'sometimes'.  He enquired if I would be interested in renting it out to him, an idea I found rather appealing. I think he wants to grow salad plants for his family.  My faith in the younger generation is restored.

His mobile telephone rang while we were in the garden, and feeling it was rude to eavesdrop I went back into the kitchen, but I did overhear him say that he hadn't had so much fun since his granny died,  so I suppose they must have given her a good send-off.

I am rather enjoying my position as a minor celebrity in the village. Even the bus driver was more cheerful than usual today, so I smiled and gave him a cheeky little w*nk as I got off, and I'm sure he noticed it.


                                        Ever your devoted fiend,           Dottie  **

We went to the woods for a picnic
That girl was such a nitwit
She promised a lot
But all I got
Was a peck on the cheek and a biscuit

Her parents went to Rhyll
To me that sounded brill
I went to her place
All prepared (just in case)
And fed the budgie some trill

I said I've fallen for ya
Let's cuddle in the corner
She said that's nice
But tonight I might
Practise my recorder

She said it's good to share
I said I'm with you there
Then I was led
To a single bed
And loaned a teddy bear

I did my best to please her
But she was just a teaser
My money spent
My patience went
So it was time to leave her

Bounty snatched and safely stashed
         Bare the yielded land
Fringed wilderness displays her wares
   Palms open outstretched hand

      Tawny millpond stubble seas
         are lifted wave by wave
  Mechanically exposed, tossed over
     Broken, pummeled flat again

     Cool the calm September days
     Winter clothes as yet we shun
Creeping through our summer weave
Dead men's fingers tell of what's to come

Someone saw our horse plough
A relic from a different age
"I used one just like that"
I turn to him amazed

I ask our neighbour, over eighty
Yes, on my father's farm
Hitched up to a pair of hosses
Hard work did me no harm

One foot on the land, one foot in the furrow
Eleven miles an acre, up and down you'd go
An acre a day good going, if the land was light
You do that all day, bor
You'll lay still at night !

Ah, a Spitfire!
This sight, it brings me close to tears-
I've not been near one of these for years.
Since when I was a pilot, World War Two-
Battle of Britain.
I was one of the few.

She's been restored, she looks real fine
Could I  sit in her just one more time?
I would so love to, it would really take me back...

Sorry sir, health and safety-
No way can you do that.

Concealed amid the Summer green
As stars await their turn to shine
The thrush sings thrice his song unseen
And we would like to hold back time

As stars await their turn to shine
We want his song to never stop
And we would like to hold back time
As another cork we pop

We want his song to never stop
We hope for shooting stars up high
As another cork we pop
Watch nature's fireworks in the sky

We hope for shooting stars up high
The thrush sings thrice his song unseen
Watch nature's fireworks in the sky
Concealed amid the Summer green

-                    Rusting hulk                             -
Monolithic reminder of gargantuan struggle
-               Tombstone of war                          -

Grandma, Lucy gave birth she informed us,
and wants us all to see.

Lucy gave birth to a tortoise,
and it ran away to sea?

No Grandma, Lucy gave birth to an infant,
and she wants us all to see.

Lucy gave birth to an elephant,
today at half past three?
How did she do that?

No Grandma, Lucy has had a little one,
she's ecstatic and wants us to see.

Lucy, plastic surgery?
I'm not surprised if she gave birth to an elephant.
Shall we visit her?

Yes Grandma, what a good idea.
Shall we find your hearing aid?

What do you want a ***** for dear?