Write to be Counted – Supporting PEN

I am delighted to have two poems in the soon-to-be-launched Write to be Counted ‘Resistance Anthology’ of poetry, which will appear this autumn. Two launch events are planned: 4 October at the Poetry Café in London, and The Old Fire Station in Penrith, Cumbria, on 14th October. Details are available on the Write to be […]

Wedding List

Easter is the time of renewal, growth and hope. I post a poem about looking towards the future,  but from the perspective of a future observer. I’ll leave you to decide if it is too sentimental!   Wedding List   Fossilised towels with their line-dried crust of summer days are pressed with sediments of lavender […]

Soft Robots

Recently, I had the luck to see the new ‘Robots’ exhibition at the Science Museum in London, described as ‘The 500-year quest to make machines human’. I found it fascinating, and often moving. Robots derive from our desire to fulfil and satisfy human needs, whether practical or emotional, and are, perhaps, better contextualised within the […]

Ninety Minus

Had my mother lived, she would have celebrated her 90th birthday on 17 January this year. Sadly she died long before old age, before the arrival of her seven grandchildren. I have outlived her in raw age, but somehow still conjure her as a woman thirty years my senior. I suspect that she would have […]


A short poem for the season.     Perihelion     The geometry of time finds a minimum and a maximum So near, so far, from the sun. Perihelion. In the North, Day’s end is quick. The night comes on too soon. In the South, It is summer’s end.     Count the hours, the […]

Beans Means Beans

Here is the start of a whimsical longer piece I have begun. It may get darker; the sauce could turn black! Sister Speed Brother Norris has authorised the overtime. Emergency production of State Beans will begin immediately –  before the winter, before power cuts, and before the haricot storage can be infected with mould. The […]

The Dress Argument

There is a milestone in a girl’s growing-up when her mother asks ‘Surely you’re not going out in that…‘ It’s not a question, but a realisation that the paths of mother and daughter no longer run along the same track. The wardrobe doors of perception of each party overlook different prospects. Here is a poem […]