Braving the Shave

The time has come for me to do something I’ve always had a desire to do – I’m having my hair shaved off! I’m also toying with the idea of having a henna tattoo on my head once the hair has gone! Watch this space! I’m doing this for a very worthy cause; Macmillan Cancer Support. If you’d like to support me, and, more importantly, Macmillan, a small (or large)…

Lyrics are not poetry

Poetry is boring me I think I’ve lost my muse There aren’t so very many Words that you can use To get across a feeling To touch one deep inside I used up one just yesterday Today’s just wants to hide Some poems are too fluffy Others gone too quick Others think they’re funny And some just take the mick I think I’ve gotten word blind Each one looks like…



I’m a crack whore. There, I said it. Shit! That it should come to this. When did life become living for the next hit? Ignoring responsibilities for brain-numbing activities; neglecting the ones we purport to love. No lingering cuddles as we bask in the afterglow of our lovemaking. Instead of reaching out to each other, we reach for the WordCrack stats. Just a little comment – housekeeping. Have you washed…


Passion Flower

Like the passion flower that, once, appeared to die; which springs from the ashes of dog-turned soil to rise again with resilience, I, too, will rise, as the floral phoenix has arisen – taking hold of all within my reach – grasping firm foundations with strong, yet tender, tendrils. I will bloom; passionately, sweetly; nectar for my soul.



I came across this form of poetry on the Two Paise Poems blog. 2PP (my nickname for her) is a wonderful poet who always writes a little piece on the style she has used for each poem (very educational and a great source of prompts). She is on bed rest at the moment, so why not pop along and say hello to cheer her up a little. Pleiades is a…


Moosic for my years

There’s a moose let loose in the hoose. He’s elking ‘imself to dessert (mousse, of course). He’s such a deer, despite being rather bullish. His predilect poetic form is streaming his unconsciousness; enematic rhyme schemes spawning circular symbolism. He’s the shape of grey; a jelliful mass of contractions – a joyful jiggle in the jungle (if you get my drift) – ‘not to mention’ a gregarious giggler (you didn’t read…


Your Calling (Please Hold)

I can’t love you at the moment I’m engaged on another soul Your love is important to me Please continue to hold. Somewhere down the line I’ll give you my full attention You’re currently number two in the queue Number one needs more affection I can’t love you at the moment I’ll be with you when I’m free When I’m finished on this personal call And I’m back to loving…