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…

Rubbish Poem #15

“The Triptych” She came once more today. Three Hi-Viz escorts by her side. A trio, A threesome, A triptych Of orange-clad young men.   Atop The Beast One guides Her, coaxing and soothing. Two on foot. Who walk beside As She gorges And feasts.   The duo fill Her Seven fearsome mouths with Mounds of…

Gone Eight In The Evening.

We went walking out last Thursday, It was gone eight in the eve. Just me and myself and my young mutt, Who was quite glad to weave All along the sidewalks, Her shiny nose pressed to the floor. As we hit 3k, she turned and barked, “Come on, dad. Let’s walk some more!” We pressed…

Sunday Poem #01

I started to write a poem This morning inside my head. But I got waylaid with household chores, And don’t recall now what it said.   I think it was really intense, Profound, you might say If you’d had the chance to read My forgotten verse some future day.   I’m sure the words were…

A Rubbish Poem #14

It’s Tuesday, Oh-eight-twenty-five. I waken, fresh and rested. My ears attuned and listening for The approach of Hi-Viz vested Minions and The Beast To come bearing down our lane For, without their weekly visit Life isn’t quite the same. It’s Tuesday, Oh-eight-thirty-three. I check again, look down the street, For a sweet sight or the…

I’m watching and I’m waiting.

I’m watching and I’m waiting As the world keeps rolling by For a time when all lives matter And no-one has to die For the crime of simply being At the wrong time and wrong place When someone takes a hating to The colour of your face. I’m watching and I’m waiting And the world…

A Rubbish Poem #13

Where are you? You’ve not been, You haven’t yet come around to call. When you don’t drop by to visit Is it really Tuesday after all? Where are you? It’s gone 9. I’ve been peering down the street For a cheering glimpse of Hi-Viz And listening out for booted feet. Where are you? Is The…

A Rubbish Poem #12

Yapp! Yapp, yapp! Cry the neighbourhood hounds, Canine ears alert to the Bin men on their rounds. Yapp! Yapp, yapp! Howl the mutts inside their dwelling As rumbling closer The Beast And her Hi-Viz team come yelling. Yapp. Yapp. Whimper timid, frightened dogs, By the roar from crunching, grinding, Ripping, tearing cogs. Shush! Quiet, steady!…

A Rubbish Poem #11

On tender toes, along our street, Gentle were their booted feet, So soft and stealthy did they creep. No disturb came to my anxious sleep.   Bright orange tabards, maybe a yellow vest, Couldn’t rouse me from my troubled rest. No shouts or call to arms did I hear As Hi-Viz minions marched ever near….

A Rubbish Poem #10

“Stay Safe” A Rubbish Poem #10   How much longer will you come calling, Crawling down our street, In your bright orange pants and tabards, In your steel-toe cap booted feet?   For The Beast that rides beside you Is not the beast of which we’re all now feared. Stay safe my Hi-Viz heroes In…