The Question

Inspired by and written for Weekend Writing Prompt – Thank you, Sammi

The Question
Form: Free verse

Kettle boils and pot is warming
measured spoons of leaves to brew
the perfect cup of tea
and from the tin
a guilty secret of biscuits on a plate
one, two, or
just maybe three
because four would be greedy
and poet sits
pen in hand
a pondering on his mind
intense thinking sipping tea
his eye caressing a biscuit
should he dunk or should he not
either way
it has to be said
only crumbs will remain

Word count: 78


Working Out

Working Out
Form: Free Verse

His muscles taut and strained struggle
to move the sack of coal from the gate
to the coal shed. His arms ripple with effort
until their strength fades out
and he changes position, his hands shifting to
the corners, as his finger curl up and round
the edges, tugging the hessian sack tight
against his chest and different muscles,
fresher muscles take over for a while. As he lifts
the sack up and his shoulders take up the strain
he slides the metal lid of the coal shed
and counter balancing the weight through
his thighs to his feet the coal rumbles and tumbles
falling into the blackness ready for winter.
And the old man sits by the blazing fire
sipping his tea and rolling a smoke
his legs stretched towards the grate
it’s snowing outside


I Can See

Inspired by and written for Weekly Prompts Wednesday Challenge – thank you GC and Sue

Dear Aggie Cromwell is on the nail as always. Thank you for that precious reminder. There is no greater magic than love in all its powerful glory. Samhain is so close now, and I am really feeling a presence of a certain lady so this is for her, my GG

I Can See
Form: Free Verse

It is too easy to focus on the missing
with only tears for company
to see only emptiness in the days ahead
because to forget is impossible
in the echoes of let her go
and the broken promise I cannot keep
for love, my love, will always be yours
so, darling there can never be
anyone holding me but you
tonight as the veil thins between life and rest
as you call me to dance again
in the magic of you and me
as we put out the stars and dim the moon
for the light of love to shine
so tonight I can see
there is nothing missing in love
our love, baby, makes me whole


Approval Not Required

Approval Not Required
Form: Free Verse

An old name lies dead
but I will never kill her
that is not what this is about
no, I’m not a princess in a white dress
not anymore
it really didn’t suit me
I’m a prince in blue jeans
with long hair cut short
and a beard instead of lipstick
but even that is not what it’s about
she to he
girl to boy
woman to man
me to, umm, me
this is about me accepting me as me
and it don’t matter what society thinks
and don’t ask me for pronouns
when I don’t give a fuck
what you use behind my back
and I care even less what you say
because you are too damn chickenshit
to say it to my face
and no I don’t want
or need your fucking approval
as it, like you, means nothing to me


Free Fall

Inspired by and written for Weekend Writing Prompt – Thank you, Sammi

Free Fall
Form: Free Verse

Opposing forces attract
deluded by rose tinted lies
and unkept promises whisper sweet nothings
when nothing is all there can be
pushing and pulling
falling in love
falling out
there is no way out
but misguided desire
into a climax of self-destruction

Word count: 44


Watching Eyes

Inspired by and written for #Writephoto – thank you, KL

Some say they protect, but my Nan taught me that Gargoyles are the devil’s demons watching for naughty behaviours. Now I am 99% convinced it was a Nan’s way of making a kid behave but my pen thinks it will go with the 1%… well, it’s that time of year

Gargoyle – Image by KL Caley

Watching Eyes
Form: Free Verse

I’m watching you
watching all you do
lurking in the shadows
hidden in the night
eyes behind stone
the horror feeding on your screams
I’m watching you
watching all you do
the monster imagined in the depths of your mind
the dark reflection caught in the mirror
the nightmare dwelling
inside your very soul
like the out of control rage
of your anger
I’m watching you
watching all you do
I am that presence
that never fades
the reflection of your fear
the shadow of your living
the nightmare invading your vision
as you scream in your madness
I’m watching you
watching all you do
I am the demon inside you
and here I will stay until….
until you breathe no more


Azure Haze

Azure Haze
Form: Free Verse

Those crazy nights of sensual vision
when I dream of you
and those dreams appear in shades of blue
when in the moonlight
the fur of your belly glistens
beast like above me
as I feel my lungs gasping
grasping oxygen
as your chin lowers to kiss me
and in the blueness of the dream
there is a chill of anticipation
the blossoming of pleasure
rising from desire
as I sense the boldness of my tongue
darting eagerly against your lips
over and over again
as you love me and take love from me
and even as I awaken
the azure light fading from my eyes
my body is still shaking
yet glued to the pulp of your flesh
and I whisper
“baby, do you dream of me too?”


That Moment

That Moment
Form: Free Verse

Her hands in vice like grip
wrap around my wrists
my tendons throbbing as she holds
me down beneath her
and like the gathering clouds
the storm of her passion
thunders in lightning flashes
and then comes the rain
as I wish she wouldn’t tickle me


Odd Ball Geek

Inspired by and written for Weekly Prompts Weekend Challenge – thank you, Sue and GC

Hell yeah, that quote says it. Trying to fit into planet normal is doomed from the word get-go. I tried doing that for nearly forty years and got to no place but depression and self-hate. I am going to run with that time and in doing so reassure all who read me it is the past, and I am now me. Let’s do this…

Odd Ball Geek
Form: Free Verse

I bought into the dresses and lipstick
just a man trying to be a girl
red nails and high heels
watching soap operas to keep up
with school-gate conversations
and gloss red smiles hiding the tears
my crying done behind closed doors
and I was never as pretty as the girl next door
never as feminine as a princess
never as
never as
never good enough to be she
not brave enough to be he
purging my senses of masculine
purging the closet of jeans and t-shirts
so I could stay in there
away from the hate
alone with the hate
crashing mirrors to blind reflections
crying alone hiding in fear
‘cos, man, I tried so hard
to be just another girl
to fit in with a world built on discrimination
and hate
hate the freak
the odd ball geek in a shirt
riding a motorbike
and wiping the grease stains into my hair
with the angry tears
of the silent death threats coming from within
fitting in is killing me
and I don’t want to fit in
I just need to be me


Tom Delaney

Inspired by and written for #Writephoto – thank you, KL

That’s all a bit freaky, but I am guessing it’s one of those days things happen. Just been to town and walked home through the graveyard, it’s a shortcut, made a coffee and click – arrrgh!!!! How does that even happen!!! The graveyard is an old one and hasn’t been used in over 80 years. Most of the stones are dilapidated by time but the one at the end by the gate is Tom…

Tom Delaney
Form: Free Verse

Walking home through stones and epitaphs autumn
sunshine on marble reflections
dancing in the home of the dead
no longer used to commit the recently passed
to a better place or not
like an overbooked inn
there’s no room
no room to die
no bright bouquets wither in memory
and I look for the newest stone
dated 1935
“RIP Tom Delaney, never to be forgotten”
but none tend his rest with care
except the wild buttercups in springtime
born in 1901
he died aged 34
the last man to be laid to rest here
amid the autumn leaves of October
and the stone tells no more
the unforgotten forgotten by time
like the rest of ‘em lying here
beneath weather-worn stone
so many wiped out by the wind and rain
but you, Tom Delaney
I know your name


Whisperings of a Witch

Inspired by and written for Weekly Prompts Wednesday Challenge – thank you GC and Sue

With Samhain only 19 days away (oooh this wee witch can’t help himself) I feel myself getting stronger spiritually and mentally. After a really lousy end to 2021 and an even worse beginning to 2022, I am amazed I am even here and I’m ready to close out a really tough year. Samhain is a time to reflect on the year passed ready for a fresh start in November. Here goes…

Whisperings of a Witch
Form: Free verse

Io io io
and happy new year as love died in November rain
as the lights went out
icy winds of winter hold no compassion
yet in the darkness the veil was thin
namaste, namaste
go back
it’s not time
go back
io io io
shintay shintay
io to spring
new life dancing yellow on the field
the all clear
the all is good
and light returns on a warm April breeze
my lady of May dances at Beltane
a promised remade
one love
one ring
a vow made so long ago
an oath for all time
for true love never dies
io io shintay
io summer sun and a jubilee
the field is dry and brown
berries shrinking on the bramble hedge
no rain
no water
they have nothing to drink
namaste sunrise
sunset namaste
walking the dog avoiding the heat
chasing the shadows of coolness
a brief respite in the forty degrees
shintay io
io autumnal haze
dusting red and amber on a green field
the Queen is dead
long live the King
cold nights and sunny days
roaming clouds bring showers of rain
red floating down with gold
colours abound cover the ground
the year must end so let it go
let go
let go
io io


The Jeans Cycle

The Jeans Cycle
Form: Free Verse

When did it change
that difference between then and now
of choosing a blouse that fits with a skirt
that fits with the shoes
that fits the occasion
that fits with conformity
when any t-shirt goes
with a pair of jeans
and they fit the occasion
whether work or seeing a friend
walking the dog or reading a book
the only choice now is whether the occasion demands
trainers, boots or a comfy pair of slippers
and the shopping is easy
a pair of jeans size 34
at least they will fit for a while
as I am losing weight
the rest need a belt
but it won’t be long before new joins the old
with streak of paint on the thigh
and a bit longer until the paint doesn’t fade like it used to
so I buy a new pair of jeans
the same colour and style and maybe a 32
and start again
when did this happen
when did it change
when did I feel comfort in my own style and taste?


Seasons by the Stream

Inspired by and written for #Writephoto – thank you, KL

At the weekends Lilydog and I get to walk by a woodland stream. It’s a bit of a hike for the old lady, but she loves going there so it is worth it. It is also my sanctuary where I put my thoughts and feelings to rights. I think Lilydog knows that sometimes. With the drought this year it has felt a bit different there, but still a place of tranquillity.

Woodland – Image by KL Caley

Seasons by the Stream
Form: Free Verse


Stampeding like horses over
old time-worn rocks
the winter rains unite
with the turbulent white water
surging onward with no place to go
as the floods pool around
an old tree fallen in the storm
we wait as the ducks waddle and waggle
over the bridge by the willow tree
lie a troop of white feathered soldiers
coming to survey the damage
and finding a new place to play
making the most of it
and I nod in understanding
and we cross the bridge
with muddy paws and dirty boots
she’s chasing rabbits in over-watered grass
and I’m making changes in my mind
ready to face the way ahead
making the most of what I have got


Wilting and thirsty leaves
the stream offers little to drink
barely a trickle ripples slowly around
the once submerged rocks
coated in dried silt
can rocks ever look more sorry for themselves
no rain fall offering solace from the incessant heat
bottled water in a blue fold up bowl
under the limp trails of the willow tree
and the ducks make what they can
of puddled stream water under the bridge
as always teaching us humans to
make the most of it
and we cross the bridge as the sun rises
and Lily can’t be bothered to chase rabbits
as we follow the worn path heading home
between dried brown grass once lush and green
a cloudless sky offers no rain


Rocks glisten beneath the stream water
as autumn colours scatter on the breeze
I sit beneath the willow tree
while Lily paddles and follows the ducks
the mid-day sun just warm enough
for her to have a dip
she climbs up the bank
shaking off so I can share the wet
‘did you find any fish, Lily’
and she’s off to the stream again –
I could be here to dream a while


Glinting Reflection

Inspired by and written for Weekly Prompts Wednesday Challenge – thank you, GC and Sue

I remembered making some notes in my writing journal on looking through the window this summer so I have pulled them up and will see where it takes the creative gene and a bit of Clapton while I’m at it.. here goes

Glinting Reflection
Form: Free Verse

The sorrow inside weeps
my tears like raindrops on the pane
unhindered they convey loss from my heart
yet through the window
glimpses of sunshine peek through the clouds
glinting a sparkle on the pond
in nature’s way to soften the pain
the future remains and I have to live it
and in my tears that scares me
making it hard to see possibility
and I stare out through the window
at the dancing reflections of sunshine
the garden so peaceful and serene
offering tranquillity to a heart in turmoil
in my garden where I am at ease
by my pond where my mind can rest
a place of sweet memories of you and me
together, when the living was best
and through the window I see
the jasmine growing wild in the sunshine
without your hand to tame it
and out of the drawer I take your cutters
walking out to the snipping snip
putting the shrub back in order
outside I feel the sunshine
rest on my shoulders
a burst of reminder sunshine glints from the window
an invitation to step outside
and feel the warmth of your love again


Sailing Ships

Inspired by and written for What Do You See – thank you, Sadje

My grandad was a carpenter by trade, and his old work shed was a world of fantasy for me when I was a little kid. Grandad passed away 32 years ago, thank you, for triggering a beautiful memory.

Sailing Ships
Form: Free Verse

Running through the house
down the garden path
past the cold-frames covering
salad for the summer ahead
my childish legs eager
to reach your shed
the shed of stories and childhood dreams
and I’d sit in the wood-shavings
inhaling their scent
as you drew deeply on a rolled-up cigarette
‘what shall we make today’ you said
as you handed me pieces of wood
and I’d sit thinking
wood-shavings sticking to my chubby legs
while mum brought you a cup of tea
and while you chatted with her
my thoughts would be on the bits of wood
but what could they be
then mum would go to help with the lunch
and you gave me a biscuit from the secret tin
a custard cream to help me think
and I looked at the wood
‘a boat, grandad, let’s make a boat’


Field with No Rabbits

Inspired by and written for Weekly Prompts Colour Challenge – thank you Sue and GC

The early morning walk with Lilydog we went to the field as usual. She likes to chase the rabbits that are not there. After the rain of last night, the moisture was misting up from the grass in the bright sunshine of the morning – all rather eery and atmospheric. We got in and this prompt, well here goes…

Field with No Rabbits
Form: Free Verse

Wind and rain rattles at the gate
echoing into the dreams of the night
dreams of mystery
in the strange happenings of imagination
until the sunrises over a cup of tea
waking up to a bright autumn day
boots and leash ready
the poet and her walk the steamy drying path
through the amorous kissing gate
a click of the clip and she’s gone
looking for the rabbits
as is the want of a daft spaniel dog
and I follow turning on to the field
eerily clad in lilac-grey mist
where the clumps of dying wild grasses
no longer brown and withering
blur into a purple fusion of shape
the birds are oddly silent
not a twitter
not a flutter
even the old raven sits silent on the branch of the old oak
waiting but waiting for what
perhaps his imagination is playing games too
I say good morning as I walk past
and back to the corner
it is my turn to wait
for the bouncing purple shape of a dog
to finish the chase
and I wonder are the invisible rabbits purple too


It Must Be Love

Inspired by and written for Weekly Prompts Wednesday Challenge – thank you GC and Sue

This just invites an “The Poet and Her” write. Now whether the ‘Her’ is Lilydog the spanner spaniel or Shadow the Ninja cat who fits in with the phrase Pernickity Pets – who am I kidding they both do. However, without them life would be pointlessly empty – it must be love

The Poet and Her: It Must be Love
Form: Free Verse

It’s been a long night of insomniac thinking
when my head finally lets go to sleep
and the soggy nose nuzzles my hand
she wants to go out at 530am
but not on her own
the sun isn’t awake
but the poet has to go too
while she snuffles about
looking for the right spot
the perfect spot
the only spot for a pee
she’s straight back in to her cosy bed
with brown eyes of you gotta love me
and it’s just as well I do
so the poet heads back to his bed
and amber eyes of it’s not your bed gaze at me
seeking her attention
but not wanting a fuss
‘go on rub my belly’
but I know it’s a trap
moving her over gently instead
for a few inches of bed
so to sleep by the grace of the cat
yet I wouldn’t change a thing
for my girls know they have a poet’s love


What Do You See – Behind the Fence

Inspired by and written for What Do You See – thank you, Sadje

What a truly magnificent cat, and my heart is hoping those fences are to protect him and his pride from the trophy hunters and poachers. What a sad world we live in that we have to do that. That’s got me going…

Behind the Fence
Form: Free verse

He wants to be free
he wants to cut loose
to reign the savannah with a mighty roar
but the world is a cruel place
what would become of his cubs
if his head became a trophy of violence
hung in vanity over a rich man’s fireplace
he wants to be free
but his freedom to live is behind fences
the only defences
against an offensive world
that only sees money in possession
his glorious mane the hunter’s obsession
and he looks out on his world
unaware of a battle being fought
by the hearts of compassion
against those who kill for fun


So Starts Another Day

So Starts Another Day
Form: Free Verse

As the coffee pot sighs with arousing aroma
my mind slowly awakens
inviting the first imaginings to worm slowly
into my thinking
cradling the cup in my hands
a screen flickers
the creative adventure has begun


Weekly Prompts Wednesday Challenge – Fine Dining

Inspired by and written for Weekly Prompts Wednesday Challenge – thank you GC and Sue

If there is a reason I prefer buffet-style restaurants this is it. I really don’t like the fuss of having my meal waited, in fact, I can count the restaurants that are not buffet-style I feel okay in on one hand. I have concluded fine dining is not meant to be an enjoyable experience. Here goes…

Fine Dining
Form: Free Verse

He led us to a table, his nose in the air
then as we sat he presented menus
like a magician performing a card trick
and I’m asked to taste the contents of a freshly opened bottle
a sharp, refreshing white wine
and I say ‘it’s good’ and he proceeds to fill the glasses
as I wonder what if it had been vile
would I have dared say
would I have dared to disturb the pompous smirk on his face
from the kitchen comes a guy
swishing his hips with a board of bread rolls
‘please, may I introduce our in-house bread of the day’
and I’m still waiting for the one called ‘Fred’
as plates of art are set in place
all very pretty
it’s food for the eye but not enough to taste
he comes back with his nose even higher
‘is everything to your satisfaction?’
and I think ‘I’ll let you know when I have tasted it’
but I say ‘ everything is fine’ instead
and so it goes until the dessert
the marble-sized balls of ice cream on a biscuit
with a delicate swirl of cream
and after the fine dining, we pay the bill
before heading to a Chinese takeaway
to get some dinner


Getting It Right

Getting It Right
Form: Free Verse

Before she can speak
those words
that will spoil it
retracing my steps down the path
restriding my legs
over the engine
reclosing the visor
as the engine roars into life
eager to go
weaving through car lights
home and a change of gear
put on a movie and relax
with a whiskey – single malt –
just perfect scotch
no rocks


Little Black Dress

Little Black Dress
Form: Free Verse

In the early hours of a dark winter morning
I asked
‘what’s wrong with me?’
in the sleepless nights questioning
unable to understand
and a new little black dress
hung on the wardrobe door
ready for the party
the sequins glinting their contempt
as I knew outside would be what was expected
normality in conformity
shrouding the inward confusion
of it all being so wrong
the self-hatred hidden in a lipstick smile
inside tears flowed in self degradation
at their words
‘ babe, you look a million dollars’
but I felt less than a penny
living the lie of a little black dress
‘happy birthday, darling’
A bright sunny morning
invading the hungover vision
bleary eyes weeping
the alcohol no longer kills the pain
of the night before
of putting on the show of pretence
in the echoes of 'I’m fine’
but I’m not fine
this confusion within me is out of control
like an overblown balloon soon to explode
revealing it all
in the dark thoughts of suicide
because no one understands
not even me
Gone is the summer into September
and the early colours of autumn shine in the rain
vibrant as her apple scented hair
my eyes staring at the little black
tuxedo hanging on the wardrobe door
next to the little black dress of the lady
she calls me her ‘young man’
and I’m taking her to dinner
we might even drink a little wine
my hand on her ass as we walk home
as she whispers to garner my smile
‘behave yourself, young man’


Weekly Prompts Weekend Challenge – Pinprick of White

Inspired by and written for Weekly Prompts Weekend Challenge – thank you Sue and GC

My daddy taught me from a young age that it is in the deepest darkness that our light shines brightest. As I have gotten old I have learned that means I shouldn’t fear stepping into my darkness to see my own truth in the light so I can get back on track. In effect, it is to face my fear. Here goes…

Pinprick of White
Form: Free Verse

A tremble rippling down my spine
and I know the time is coming
to take that turning into an unlit road
where no one can walk with me
the demons that are my questions
waiting and wanting answers
and I fight, refusing to go until
all I know is fear
feelings of afraid of I don’t know what
getting worse each time I turn my back
on blackness
blinding my eyes in the sunlight
unable to see
but even in the warm sun, I feel cold
it is time to lift my face to the sun
one last time
before turning to face my fear
eyes wide open staring into the darkness
for now, I am ready to understand
ready to walk through the tunnel of confusion
to walk towards the glimmer of enlightenment
the pinprick of white emergence
refreshed, rebuilt, reborn
understanding a little more


Free Verse Notes

As the title suggests there are no particular rules to writing Free verse, it is open to the interpretation of the poet. There are still line breaks placed at the poet’s discretion. However, the poet has plenty of poetic tools at their disposal, including assonance, consonance, metaphor, allusion, even rhyme and meter. Free Verse is completely freestyle


A Nod to the Greek Poets by Jez Farmer

Once more love’s kiss loosens my tongue
jiggling my senses as they clatter
in bittersweet torment
undeniable yet irritating
like an insect silently wandering over my skin
or a soft summer breeze disturbing the stillness of a chestnut tree

Your touch, so good that it makes my chest rise and fall
refreshed and cool but burning with desire
my own Aphrodite enchanting my mortality
like the moon beguiles the stars
with a decadent purity
and my ancient spirit rises again
as we dance in the innocence of love

Weekly Prompts Weekend Challenge – A Little Foresight

Inspired by and written for Weekly Prompts Weekend Challenge – thank you Sue and GC

I practice divination, and while I will never say it gives you the complete picture of the future or one’s destiny, it can provide a useful peek into what is possibly to come, and if needs be act on things to change the direction as oft happens. Well, here goes…

A Little Foresight
Form: Free verse

Cards, runes, and crystal ball
open my eyes
to see potential coming into view
black silk and sparks of light
bring the universe into my sight
with arcane words of ritual
magic spoken across the blue
before simple questions asked in truth
seek the answers within starlight
senses soaring into the sky
into destiny where my soul can fly
but what of the shadows haunting the light
where the end of days isn’t quite right
open my eyes
to all that is wrong
so I can be free from that negative grip
releasing my heart’s darkness to another place
hold me in the universal embrace
to walk my path of sacred bliss
Father Sun and Mother Moon
unto my journey’s end
protect me in love and light


Writephoto – Into the Trees

Inspired by and written for #Writephoto – thank you KL

Ooooh, that feels such a sacred and magical bit of glade. I am just going to let the old imagination run riot with it. Here goes…

Meeting – Image by KL Caley

Into the Trees
Form: Free Verse

Running into the darkness of trees
I hear her voice calling me
“come quickly, my love, come swift of foot,
come quickly, let me touch your soul”
and the old romantic story I have read
so many times before
the lines written on my heart
so I run into the trees
searching for love
for the meeting of mind, body and soul
for I know she is of my kind
a woman of the trees
a woman who can understand all that I am
and all that I am is hers
for she is the galaxy of shining stars
drawing me closer
into her universe
into the wonder of her arcane bliss
her ecstasy of lust in the shadows
“come to me, my lover”
and I kneel at the feet of my woodland nymph
letting roots entwine with my sinews
twisting my body to her desire
as one with the trees
we were never there


Weekly Prompts Wednesday Challenge – Willow by the Stream

Inspired by and written for Weekly Prompts Wednesday Challenge – thank you GC and Sue

Well, I am sure most have worked out I am a bit of a tree-hugger or a tree-whisperer, probably both. Over the years I have gotten to know the trees where I walk every day. They are like good friends, solid and reliable. In my beliefs, different trees tell us different things and are useful for making those decisions or actions related to that tree. Here goes…

Willow by the Stream
Form: Free Verse

Not so far away
you wait for me
knowing my heart is broken again
and I am feeling the pain
of mistaken love
you know I will come
seeking the gentle green tendrils
of your embrace by the stream
the whisper of your leaves comforting me
with your tips drifting on the ripples
flowing in the water
and I hear you whisper clearly now
‘let it go, my love, let it go’
and I feel the water dancing on my fingers
washing it away
taking the pain on its journey
until just a dull ache remains
emotions washed into fresh senses
discarding the meaningless things of the past
and I hear your whisper
‘the future is yours, my love, don’t look back’
beneath the boughs of solace
my willow by the stream
I see life begin to clear


Between Friends

Between Friends
Form: Free Verse

Old movies flicker on the TV screen
echoes of spitfires chasing the war
Audrey bringing a tear to the eye
while classic comedy still makes us roar
and the dog snores through it all
a glass of beer
talking it out
opinions may differ
but no one needs shout
a friendship standing the test of time
my brother in arms
my brother’s embrace
holding me safe as I sleep
away the pain of another mistake
another pointless attempt at love
that was nothing but shame
a reminder a heart can only love once
and my love is gone
our friendship knows this
it understands
life goes on
and friendship becomes so much more


Scent of Erotica

Scent of Erotica
Form: Free Verse

His scent carries her into liquidity
of meeting without thinking
sometimes talking
often laughing yet making no sound
the lusty punchlines of pleasure
floating freely from the corners of her mouth
as she tries to remember a beautiful phrase
that is forgotten on a gasp
in his chardonnay kisses claiming her lips
he swallows her wanting cries
as her legs clamp onto his thigh
inviting the penetration of her desire
and he kneels at the blushed sunset of her skin
watching the pale tones flush red
as his body glistens with her feminine delight
as they push each other to that reason of purpose
only discovered in the sensuality of her sigh


New Dress, Old Money

New Dress, Old Money
Form: Free Verse

A ha’penny here and a farthing there
soon a penny or thereabouts
a three-penny bit found on the floor
she set her target at sixpence
half a shilling would be quite something, you see
so in her jar the coins went
whenever she had any spare
sixpence passed to a shilling
then two bob soon it would be half a crown
enough to buy fabric and lace
to make a new dress for the summertime


Weekly Prompts Wednesday Challenge – Time to Tee

Inspired by and written for Weekly Prompts Wednesday Challenge – thank you, GC and Sue

I know mini golf as crazy golf, we also had pitch and putt. These days I am a bit of a bad golfer despite loving getting out with my clubs as often as I can. Tiger Woods is one of my heroes and not only for his golf. I am going to run with the idea of golf – here goes…

Time to Tee
Form: Free Verse

Long gone are the days of pitch and putt
with my uncle guiding the aim of my shot
when we played the green every Sunday
leaving the old ladies to their church
for the glory of a hole in one
such a rarity it became the sacred dream
shooting for a hole the eye cannot see
striking the ball from the tee
and watching it fly the skies
towards a fluttering flag
my dream to simply hit the green
before putting that holy orb
into the depths of darkness
marking the pad a score
with a childlike squeal
but that was the first
seventeen more to do
before heading home for tea
nowadays my aim is much better
and I ain’t squealing on the fairway
enjoying it’s sanctuary of peace is far better
and I no longer dream of being Tiger
instead I am thinking of characters and fiction
jotting ideas on the pad instead of a score
out on the fairway pondering with dreams
with my clubs
I’m always a winner


Weekly Prompts Weekend Challenge – Destination Unknown

Inspired by and written for Weekly Prompts Weekend Challenge, thank you Sue and GC

This is one of those prompts that I see with a sinking feeling as I don’t want to write that stuff, but I know I will. As a dear friend says it might help someone so that makes it okay, right? No form with these types of writing they have to be free to be. Here goes…

Destination Unknown
Form: Free Verse

He sat there
a pink bandana on his head
the starting point of a journey
without a map
with no destination
he sat there
his voice speaking
his thoughts being revealed
for the first time he could talk
not baby words
but the words of aman
taking his first tentative steps
into the unknown world of transition
but he wanted to do it alone
without the opinions
without the judgments
and without discrimination
he wanted his journey to be his alone
and has he answered more questions
each answer a step in his direction
his path forming behind him not ahead
as each step forward was into the unknown
Tunnels of darkness
meandering around
going in circles
travelling up and down
like a cart on a rollercoaster ride
high points the mile stones of getting there
before crashing back down into the abyss
into the dark tunnels
of frustration and pain
anguish and depression
hormones raging into the insanity
puberty and menopause at the same time
where all he can do is cry
before snarling with rage
when will this end
He sat there
on the edge of the bed
like a train at the station
this is not the final destination
but he needed to stop here
he sat there
looking out the window towards the sea
blue skies meeting blue waters
until he had to walk down
down the corridor
where he laid down and the world went black
bright lights of mid afternoon
tightly wrapped chest he wanted to breathe
they stood him up
and he shook seeing his feet
nothing blocking the view down
he sat there
there on the edge of the bed
unable to speak
just smiling his ecstasy
Confusion cascades in now what
where to go
what he should do
opinions pushing him into a corner
concerns that should never have mattered
calling his shots
as he sped into coma
burning with infection
and in the darkness
he knew he must stop
He sat there
his lips moving between the facial hair
speaking his words with gruff throaty tones
his voice deeper
as the train moves onward
to another stopping point
on the journey
blue jeans mingle with the other guys
looks like one of the crowd
now he’s on his own journey
a new destination further down the line
and it is still destination unknown


Letter to a Girl

Letter to a Girl
Form: Free Verse

I never hated you but I am sorry
sorry for making you lie
sorry for making you hide behind the disguise
with a fake smile on the lips of your made-up face
sorry I couldn’t help you with the feelings of being wrong
the wrong person
the wrong time
the wrong place
but I never hated you
and I am sorry you had to be
what they all wanted to see
a girl with a made-up face
and I felt your tears cry
asking me why
why you needed to be a girl
when we both knew you were a boy
and all I could say is the time isn’t right
the world isn’t right
the world isn’t safe
but I never hated you
and I am sorry for those battles of self
the anger and rages
as we raced against time
a race for survival in the dark lonely nights
each battle fought in your mind
and I felt your fight weaken and knew
the time had come to step in
by stepping out in the world
taking over the fight for our identity
and I will always take you with me
you, the girl I used to be
me, the man I am now
always one in reality
for I never hated you
because you are me


Weekly Prompts Colour Challenge – One Foggy Night

Inspired by and written for Weekly Prompts Colour Challenge – thank you, Sue and GC

With Ellie Goulding playing on Heart and this prompt, well, I’m laughing my socks off at the concept of Fifty Shades of Greyish as it is probably the kindest way to see that set of rather beige novels. Yes, I have read them and it took ages as I’d keep falling asleep. I’m more inclined to go with fog, really. Here goes…

One Foggy Night
Form: Free Verse

Lamps glow amber on the city streets
dim hues of orange framed by rolling fog
shimmering with mystery
almost magical sensations
anticipating the quiet stillness of air
damp but less chilling than rain
spirals of mist rise enchanting the mind
in the gloomy shadows shaped like an avenue of trees
where two reconciling lovers meet
in the drifting hopelessness of the modern world
and the air moves slightly
letting them pass
into their pact of oblivion
hand in hand
into the dreamy fog of wistful remembering
the subtle sparks of a bygone age
as they vanish into yesterday


Unravelled String

Unravelled String
Form: Free Verse

Romantic desire and images of sensual lust
entwined in muddles like tangled string
and time has to figure that out
detangle reality from fantasy
untangle dreams from my own reality
forgetting what other people may say
dismissing their wants from my mind
finding that answer for myself
without their invading opinions
of what they want me to be
because what they want isn’t me
and the thoughts I am doing what they want
not giving myself a chance to be
and I know they don’t care
as long as they get what they want out of me
until my expectations are so low
I no longer know what they are
but I know it is all wrong
and self-hate enters my thinking
while faking another orgasm
in their pleasure
hiding the tears in the bathroom
this isn’t my dream
this isn’t my love
but it is my reality
staring out the window at grey skies
imitating the sounds of passion
behind closed eyes
swallowing the screams of ‘don’t touch me’
hiding the pain as a lover won’t take the word ‘no’
they see intimacy as making ‘love’
and all I want is to share tea
talk in the moonlight
point at the stars
listen to the sound of the night
for their lies my heart’s delight
yet they always kill that moment
with sex that I don’t want
and I repeat
I am asexual
and best avoided by the sexual
because never the twain shall meet


What Trees Know

What Trees Know
Form: Free Verse

Dreary green waves hustle
and rage
thrashing against the shore
and the trees shiver
hunched against the cold
but they know where the storm has been
this wild winter seascape
cannot hide secrets
where the waves churn to crash and fall
seething from the depths found
where the horizon lies
a bleak green vista fading into grey
the battered and weary trees know
the storm comes from sadness
without pleasure
without delight
yet in its tempestuous rage
it brings closure
an end to another long night


Weekly Prompts Wednesday Challenge – Landlocked Pirate

Inspired by and written for Weekly Prompts Wednesday Challenge – thank you GC and Sue

This prompt and PotC playing on my playlist – that’s got the imagination going better than any coffee. So I will let it run and see where it goes…

Landlocked Pirate
Form: Free Verse

Toes dipping and dangling into clear blue
sunshine ripples reflecting like glass
are they echoes of the things I’ve done
the things I’ve not done
returning to haunt me
should I send out messages of
‘I’m sorry, maybe next time’
or bottle them all up until my return
this is not my last chance
to navigate the waters of living
defending my reasons to be
but I am a landlocked pirate
and messages caught in bottles
don’t travel far in glass bottomed pools
and Davy Jones don’t keep his locker
here in the crystal blue
so slipping in to the waters
as the ripples bind my flesh and bones
the only gold the sun light
I think today I will swim
for to sink for treasure needs more
than Jack Sparrow’s rum


#Writephoto – Cupid in Lockdown

Inspired by and written for #Writephoto – thank you, KL

Sometimes I think that Cupid has a lousy sense of who he puts together with his arrows. To be fair it can’t be an easy job helping humans fall in love. Especially during Covid and lockdown, I reckon the poor child was shooting pretty much blind – here goes

Slit – Image by KL Caley

Cupid in Lockdown
Form: Free Verse

Mischievous child flying the wings of love
watch where you shoot those arrows
be careful on whose heart you shoot
who you cause to fall in love
and with who
don’t aim your arrows at me no more
what do you mean you don’t know who you shooting at
or what for
but you think sweet love will conquer all anyway
what can you do from behind a wall
because of Covid you are in lockdown
no longer free to fly around
it’s not your fault if love goes wrong
or you pairings really don’t suit
sweet angel child
you don’t want to catch the disease
so you keep firing blind
as again you say sweet love always wins
how can that be
even love can’t fight a battle
when there’s nothing to win
and desire fled into the distant hills
not wanting to go to that place
chosen by love
Cupid, dear child of the heart’s passion
lay your bow down
you are giving love a bad name
I’ve been in love too many times before
when your arrows pierced my heart
my heart has been hurt too many times, too
so do your best
and stop shooting me
all those tears I call love belong in the past
and that’s fine


Weekly Prompts Weekend Challenge – Thin Line

Inspired by and written for Weekly Prompts Weekend Challenge – thank you Sue and GC

As I was growing up I saw the man within as my evil twin, I now know he really isn’t but “twin” probably is the closest description to the way it felt sometimes. This is really appealing to my darker mind, I hope that is okay. Here goes

Thin Line
Form: Free Verse

I fear it
that existence on the otherside
yet within
within my on fear
at the darkest edge
where rainbow colours begin
and never shine
it lies waiting, anticipating
for the moment when balance
loses its sense of compassion
creeping and growling through the shadows
slowly moving in silence
crossing the thin line
through the crying soul
to whisper temptations of vengeance
its potency intensifying
curdling through the blood
twisting the mind with the desire
for that pound of flesh
deep within it takes shape
the immoral flip side of the coin
mocking compassion and kindness
into oblivion
as it serves that dish
cold on a steel blade


The Day She Died

The Day She Died
Form: Free Verse
Theme: Apocalyptic

It reappeared in the heat of summer
When rage was frazzled in overcrowded airports
And frowns disfigured the worn-out faces
And the spirits sunk in the throat of a dying day
As in their misery echoes of sound agree
The day she died the summer turned cold
Far away her illness lay
Like the hunters among the evergreen trees
But the rivers ignored their questionable ways
As they flowed in mourning
Thus taking her words along their journey
Through the cities built on rumours
Away from the gossiping shopping malls
Where the shallow minded gather in hoards
Demanding the things that they don’t need
Her silence invades the suburban streets
Floating over the immoral affections
That seek happiness before life
But there will be no sound tomorrow
For she has gone
And none will remain to remember this day
For hers was the air we all breathe
She, the giver of life
And none are left to mourn her passing
The death of Mother Earth


#Writephoto – I Am Not Dad

Inspired by and written for #Writephoto – thank you, KL, I think

Well, KL, you are opening a can of worms today and as I am not ashamed of who I am, in fact, I am dead proud to be the man I am as I have been through hell to get here. I am an even more proud seahorse (as trans men birth parents are known) to my sons, and yes, that means I am proud to be the mother of two fantastic young men. So here goes

Seahorse – Image by KL Caley

I Am Not Dad
Form: Free Verse

Before my journey to me
I carried you sweet child
taking morning sickness in my stride
burying deep what had to be denied
briefly wishing I could be dad
but as it happens I’m proud to be your mum
and have been since that moment
the first time I held you in my arms
as you grew I grew prouder still
can pride really be six foot four
well, it is so it has to be
and to that day I told you about me
told you I will always be your mum
that will never change
you didn’t care
not one little bit
I knew I’d raised you right
to love who and not what
and in that journey of chaos
a one-way trip to manhood
with voices saying so you’re now their dad
for a male cannot give birth
but like the seahorse
the man I have always been
could and did
and I am proud to be your mum


Weekly Prompts Wednesday Challenge – Waterlilies

Inspired by and written for Weekly Prompts Wednesday Challenge – thank you, GC and Sue

Garden art just brings Monet to my head, a great artist inspired by his garden at Giverny. I am privileged in that I have been there a few times and can honestly say they bring his art to life- so here goes

The Water-Lily Pond by Claude Monet, 1899. Oil on canvas. The National Gallery, London, UK

Form: Free Verse

Serenity in brushstrokes of paint
when all we see is images of war on the screen
political scandals
and a stabbing on city streets
yet he gave a sweet escape
from the living hell of reality
a moment of tranquillity
from his gardens of art
impressions of beauty
light dancing with colour
floating on the surface
of the dark hidden depths
enchanting the mind
with exotica
and erotica
so sensual the delight
nature evocatively posed
as Monet’s nude
and for me
this is garden art


Hidden Potential

Hidden Potential
Form: Free Verse
Theme: Identity

Feelings hidden beneath a smile
in answer to the well-meaning concerns
secret emotions behind the confident voice
my voice hiding the potential
from family and friends
and the future lovers who would come to nothing
sliding beneath skin
saying they understand
and it is okay
just as long as you do it their way
until confidence softly said
maybe not
as the winter wind chilled on my shaven head
and it came to me
in the tears hidden in a darkened room
among the pools of weeping
and the shards of confidence
it came quietly
it is time to say no
I’m not doing it their way
because they don’t care what is best for me
only what is best for them
and believe me I want all that is best for them, too
but that isn’t me
it never was and never will be
they didn’t want me not the way I am
the voice of confidence speaks again
backed by the reality and I understand
there is no future hiding in their lies
and it is time for me to go


Daddy and Me

Daddy and Me
Form: Free Verse
Theme: Genetics
Subject: Flight

It’s in our blood
he has his father’s eyes
the steel grey stare
melting the tension with a mischievous glint
it’s in our blood
the fiery temper
inherited from an emerald isle
as Celtic passions burn too deep
it’s in our blood
the pulse racing to the rhythm
a Merlin engine crossing the sky
wings of victory fly past
the love of the Spitfire
runs in our blood too
Spitfire by Neil Hipkiss


Like Fine Wine

Like Fine Wine
Form: Free Verse
Theme: Love
Subject: Growing Older

The wisdom of age brings
an awareness to the heart
not the rushing pulse of lust
but a deep meaningful serenity
embracing the purity of love
a gentle passion
a kiss of understanding
and that in our love
there is no getting old


Gentle Caress

Gentle Caress
Form: Free Verse
Theme: Erotica
Subject: Waking Up

I cried to sleep last night
my heart broken like a compass
with no sense of direction
no way to go
weeping I miss you on to my pillow
yet as my tears flowed into sleep
I could feel your embrace
holding me
comforting and relaxing
and in that moment of intimacy
once more I felt your gentle caress
between my thighs
waking up my senses
reminding me of all that we are


#Writephote – Cup of Tea

Inspired by and written for Writephoto – thank you KL

Kip and Gai are taking a break this week and I feel a girl called Alice looking through a looking glass coming into my mind, one of my fave’s from childhood – that explains a lot I guess. Mushrooms and rabbits, caterpillars and cats – here goes

Mushrooms – Image by KL Caley

Cup of Tea
Form: Free Verse

Last night
from the top of a mushroom
a hookah smoking caterpillar looked me in the eye
between the spirals of hazy blue
and he said
‘who the devil are you?’
and I replied
‘if the devil don’t know, how can I?’
and that caterpillar took a long toke
before saying
‘on your way and watch out for the dormouse’
So I left dancing
through the mushroom field
picking one here
and one there
for breakfast on toast
and as I reached a gate
a cat grinned at me
with an not so innocent eye
and said
‘clear off, stay away from my stash’
A talking cat who thought of that
and so I went another way
through the woods of purple trees
with amber leaves
and a rabbit like snow
dashed across my path
then stopped looking at me
‘hurry up, I’m late, don’t you know?’
And I said
‘no, I didn’t know, but you best get a move on, mister’
So he left as fast has he had come
and I meandered
along the winding path
to a table set for tea
and I’ve not had my breakfast yet
‘sit down and have a cup’
the dormouse said
so I sat and drank the brew
forgetting what the caterpillar said
too late now
I’m out of my head


Weekly Prompts Weekend Challenge – Scrappage

Inspired by and written for Weekly Prompts Weekend Challenge – thank you Sue and GC

I’m not sure where this one will take me, possibly into my lifelong love affair with art. Scrappage, a play on the words scrap and collage, is a new art form where an artist takes what most of us would see as junk, and pretty much unusable junk at that, and creates art. And I think it’s wonderful. So here goes….

Sculptures by Michelle Reader

Form: Free Verse
Theme: Waste:

An old man sits on an old park bench
watching the lake
what was and what is
defined in art
rusty fences no longer required
contorted into the shape of a man
two drunk beers on the way home
bottles left on a wall
piecing green eyes
old tyre on the roadside
a pair of shoes
yesterday’s news within the wire
shrouded behind
plastic bottles and old tin cans
his jacket sparkling in the sunlight
casting jazzy reflections on
someone’s discarded jeans
an old tramp sat patiently
on an old broken bench
yet nature is kind
and sends her love to grow
in the spaces of time gone by
flowers bloom with new life
old junk constrained for eternity
in modern art


Weekly Prompts Colour Challenge – Jingle Jangle

Inspired by and written for Weekly Prompts Colour Challenge – thank you, Sue and GC

Nautical Blue, that just has to be that brief time between night and morning when dark waters take on a purple-tinted blue, naturally matching the lightening sky. I was raised near a yachting marina and the masts would sing on the breeze – ok here we go

Jingle Jangle
Form: Free Verse

A jingle jangle echoes over dark waters
like dim and distant church bells
empty masts muttering while waiting for sails
their cries ringing in the air
safe on their moorings they yearn for the seas
empty masts anticipating the unfurling sails
to trap the winds of adventure
as the dark curling waves turn to blue
tipped with sparkling purls
and on the deck, a sailor sings of his love
watching the bow tumble the waves
the sails echo his song of the sea
and the distant land
where sailor fell in love with a girl


Weekly Prompts Weekend Challenge – Love’s Portico

Inspired by and written for Weekly Prompts Weekend Challenge – thank you, Sue.

Waking up to Frankie’s Power of Love on my DAB and the quote “An arch consists of two weaknesses which, leaning one against the other, make a strength.”~ Leonardo da Vinci – which is on an arty poster on my bedroom wall. Pen ready, here goes

Love’s Portico
Form: Free Verse
Theme: Love
Subject: Arch

That night I held your tears
that wept from your shattered heart
tears of injustice
tears of sacrifice
and you thought you were broken
your soul left tired and weak
drawing on my determination
and inner resilience
we put the pieces of you back together
stronger than ever before
That night you held my fears
echoing screams from my nightmares
fears of it all happening again
fears of no escaping the past
and I thought I was nothing
my body aching with the anguish
hearing your whispers of calming
and words of grounding
we put the shards of me together
stronger than before
This night we hold each other
stronger and wiser
my darling, we are unbeatable