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Song: Hotel Can’taffordmore
On a dark dual carriageway, cool wind in my hair, Warm smell – sugar beet dust – rising up through the air. Up ahead in the distance, I saw a flickering light; I’d worked my hours to the max that day, I had to stop for the night. There she stood in reception, like she’d…
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Poem: Rosie’s Garden
Oh tell me, Rosie; Rosie, tell: What makes your garden grow so well? Each plant in its rightful place Grows and blossoms, given space. If the plants are to succeed Food and water’s all they need. Water? In the morning’s best; Watch out for disease and pest;
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Poem: Freeing My Mind
I tried to free my mind from all the things I had to do: Cook the dinner, do the washing, walk the dog and clean the loo. My list grew ever longer and I so wanted to bin it But the more I tried to free my mind, the more things came back in it.…
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Poem: The Internet Date
I didn’t expect you to turn up – Nobody’s turned up before. I’ve had people say that they would do; Not one of them’s come through that door. I didn’t expect you’d be handsome – Your photo was quite true to life. I didn’t expect you’d be single – With your looks you should have…
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Poem: On Being Offered A Lift
Thank you for the offer but I’d rather catch the bus. I know it’s less convenient but please don’t make a fuss. You want to know the reason why? Sit down, I’ll tell you true: I’d rather walk to where I’m going than get in a car with you… Because…
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Poem: Venetian Glass Clowns
They stand, Rank upon rank upon rank, A comical honour guard Awaiting my grandmother’s inspection. Off-limits to us as children Lest our exuberance Damaged their fragility: We knew who claimed first place In our grandmother’s affections. They were not fun…
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Poem: Stay for Breakfast
They met, quite by chance, over breakfast – A buffet: fruit, pastries and such. Their hands landed on the same apple; Both started at each other’s touch. ‘I’m sorry,’ they said, and retreated. ‘After you.’ ‘No, go on – after you.’ So they both reached again, and they giggled; He knew then what he had…
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Short Fiction: A Hundred Paces
I try to keep my hand still, the apple resting on my palm, so I try not to think of how I loathe him, because the loathing and the anger make my hand shake. Oh, everybody in the village thinks the sun shines out of him…