(As yet untitled)

Ice winds freeze brave DC’s air On a chill January morning As the world watches and waits for Oaths of office to be sworn in, When a slight young woman, Wrapped tight in yellow and red, Steps on up to the mic About to thrill global millions With the words that she read. Those words,…

“Did My Love Life Shrink In The Wash?” by Kristen Bailey

I am delighted to be among the first stops on day one of the Bookouture book tour for the latest release by Kristen Bailey. Bookouture kindly granted me a digital copy of “Did My Love Life Shrink In The Wash?”, via Netgalley, in exchange for my honest review. And that is exactly what you will…

“The Khan” by Saima Mir

They advise to not judge a book by its cover. Wise words indeed.  But, just sometimes, advice, however sage and well-intentioned, is best ignored. And this is one of those occasions. Besides, who exactly are they? I first saw “The Khan”, or rather, its cover, in a tweet and was, figuratively, stopped in my tracks….

Rubbish Poem #19

It’s been a little while since my last Rubbish Poem, over two months actually, so I thought it time for another. I know, and I agree with you when you exclaim, “It took you two months to write this?!” Two baseball’s and one bobble Crown the heads of the Hi-Vis trio, Warming these barons of…

The One

A little poem I began writing last night and finished this morning. It’s a little bleak but was inspired by one of Ilkley Literature Festival’s writing prompts, “Write A Poem About The Last Person On Earth”, and, with what we’re all currently experiencing, the poem came quite easy. I pen these final lines For who?…

A Rubbish Poem #18

A wet grey morn comes dawnin’, Dawn, dawnin’, On the scene. Those Hi-Viz boys come rollin’, Roll, rollin’ Down the street. Their steel-toes tappin’, Tap, tappin’ On black-soled booted feet. An’ they’re all yappin’, Yap, yappin’, With any folks they meet. Here She now comes a-roarin’, Roar, roarin’, Into view. Man, you best be praisin’,…

A Rubbish Poem #17

The clash of cans And thrum of tins Sound a descant above the Repeated caterwaul As The Beast backs shrilly up.   Amid chimes of shattered glass, Chorussing clatters and clunks And crashing clangs, The Hi-Viz march their tune On percussive, booted feet.   With raucous riot and rumbling roar, The Beast feeds, mewling her…

Rubbish Poem #16

Oh, but you were So sneaky, On this drab, Cold Tuesday morn, When you came Softly creeping Through the Steel grey Light of dawn.   Where was the March of boots? The thump of your Stamping feet? Instead you Hi-Viz boys Slipped quietly, Wraith-like, Along our Sleeping street.   With voices strangely muted, Your words…

Little Fridge Light

*i know that today is a Tuesday and you are all hankering after my latest “Rubbish Poem”, but this little poem is demanding to be told and is simply too important to be missed. And, as is the case with all the really good stuff you like, this poem is “based on true events”.* Oh,…

A Quiet Spring

**Shortly after the country went into “Lockdown”, Ilkley Literature Festival put up some writing prompts on their website and the inspiration for Week 2 was “A Quiet Spring”. I took a slightly different tack to some of the others that were sent.     Newlywed, devoid of means, They pine, like sex-starved, Love-struck teens, At…

Sunday Poem #02

*Written on my iPhone this morning while still in bed. Intended to fit into one single Tweet, the inspiration for this poem should, hopefully, be clear.   Sunday morn Bedside clock shows OhEightThreeFour Frenzied banging at the door You wake and rise to see A man and van from DPD Insisting you come quick For he…

“A Lame Joke”

Two guys and their pet gorilla walked into a bar. A week or so back, I had the above line pop into my head. At least, it was a version of that early line; I have since tweaked it once or twice to get it just right. Just right for what? Good question. At the…