Friday, 25 March 2011


Shall I tell yer a story

of grandma, a bonnet;

shall I tell yer a tale

of a pig and her brood?

Look out at that beanstalk,

a bridge and a billy goat,

ancestors of bears

and uncountable wolves.

Around they go baby

- old stories like fountains -

and, after all the axes

and giants returnin’,

shall I tell yer a story

and make it anew?

Wednesday, 23 March 2011

How to speak

There’s nothing there at first;

nowt at all,

until the start of a small bubble

expanding sound,

growing up rapid

like a seed of beginnings

swimming in softness

ready to birth

out from the lung wrench,

in-breath, then out-breath

- crucial in moments -

touting a burp from

intent - and a climax;

‘Send out the dove’

Monday, 21 March 2011


Hands, my aging hands;

thumbs can gather

and horny fingers

pulsate a guitar

or draw blood, scratch skin:

available to

hammer with tools,

build up an igloo,

fish into currents,

pull me through water,

capable of toil

with pen or shovel

and touch, at the palm,

another hand – yours.