Sitting outside the Bell.

Such trying through love.

The poet Mariette.

There's a new kid on the block.

Water into wine.



Excuse me, do we still have to sign on after the holocaust?

The ink isn't dry yet.

The joker in the pack.

Winterville 2008.



A walk through summer.

And every summer we bloom.

For the glory of.

I wished to forget who I was and entertain the young hippies.

Stonehenge free.

Y Gelli blues.


Friends and family.

A wedding in a blizzard in Wales 1946.

I saw a little baby today. 

Taking mother shopping.

They are singing.

What is the Farsi for freedom?



Towards the light.



A bank holiday in England.

Walking on the Tor.

A poet's holiday.

A sort of waiting.

Holyday for Dewi Sant.

Learning about forgiveness.

Llantony-the priory and after.

Looking for Daphne.

The Birmingham fortnight.

The end of the rainbow.

The Rock.

The Star and Garter.

The summer has come.

They all came today.

To the sea from the heart.

Trying to be nice to the house of Saxe-Coburg.


In remembrance. 

James the sword.

Oxford brown.

Swords in the custard.

The B road to Shustoke.


New poems.

9/11, halfway to heaven.

A holiday in West Wales.

Ancient rights.

Apple cider blues.


Cultural 'limpicks.

From Queen Elizabeth to Harold Wilson.

Just on the turn.

Mellow is the rhyme. 

Monday 27th February 2012.

New moon rising.

Petite bourgeoisie.

Poets in motion.

Shopping in a shed.

Steam in the air.

The Ikon.

Vox populi.

Waiting for the daffodils.


Parliament and the Crown.


Mortars on the hill.

Moving the cat hairs.

My mum thinks we need a Tory government.

Thatcher reign 3, day 2 Sheffield.

What now of Warwick?


Passing time.

A country pub back garden.

Double zero on the fourteenth floor.

It's like Brumagem's been hit by a one kiloton bomb.

Mussing of celebrity.

Poetry pension.

Still waiting.

The day began with a cone three skinner.

Two punnets of strawberries a pound.

What remains.


Stratford upon Avon.

As if love would tarry.

The joy of swans.



And I heard it on radio 4.

Cleaning the rain of my glasses.


Survivor poetry.

Burying the mad alive.

For evil to triumph.

It's days like these.


Sunny sparkling otters.

The Mrs. is going on.


The Royal Jubilee 2002. 

Hey man.


In which we serve. 

Artist's bicycles. 

The seeds of Albion.

Our way gentle day.

The little blue milk jug.


And so and so.


War and peace.

A poem found at Easter.

Schoolgirls in the mud.

A skylark sings.


At the 11th hour.

Building the pyramids.

Dark raven (green).

Dear soldier.

Dreaming in a field.


Suicide bombers on the tele.

Talking to the gardener.

The fourth of June.

The gardener.

Hope for peace.


The latest poems.

Crown Derby.

In the land of, ninety not out.

On the death of a flea.

Ars longa vita brevis.

An hour by the cut.

The sixth age of man.

April in May. (The snails got my marigolds).

Shopping for mother.

The sun shines on the sightless.

A walk in Town.

Now that summer is here.

The stage coach has left Dodge. 

Nymphs and shepherds.

For Andrew and Bridget.

Ceirios. (cherries.)

What's in a name?

Wasps in the crab apples.

A wedding in the shire.

Once where fish and smugglers.


A pub Christmas.

Could have been a perfect day.

Walking a marathon.

Ah bliss.

The electric man.

Waiting for the solstice.

Walking a path.

The town with a hill.

The Parade.

The larch in spring.

Alms for the insane.

Laugharne and stuff. 

Ice melting in the summer sunshine.

Not drowning but waving.

The voices.

Late September sunshine.

The hill beyond the city.

A bracelet of shells

The canary in the coal mine.

Christmas marzipan.

Je suis Charlie.

Our morning star.

The art centre.


The sun has got its hat on.

The local. 

Bringing the drawings home.

The art gallery tea rooms.

Work makes you free.

Yorkshire grit as autumn diamonds.

Global warning.

The wedding anniversary.

Dancing with the Faeries.


Poverty incineration porn.