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Fat Alice

Drop-in Centre

Survivor Guilt

Prime Ministerís Question Time

Lessons from Viet Nam

The Airborne Museum, Hartenstein, March 2023

Early Morning Walk


Communication ii

Sock Drawer Poets

Diplomatic Dancing

Old Bill And Me

Debits And Credits

Organic Farming

Whiskey The Cat

Fettling The Garden


Those Washday Dreams

In Povertyís Hell

By Steam Train

Road Hog Blues


Yorkshire Red

This New New Year

Priory Woods 2022



Two Thousand And Twenty Two

Ginger Whinger




More Poetry >>


With his little Digi camera
He wandered down the street
With it hidden in his pocket
It was so small and neat
He took candid photographs
Of every one that he saw
Caught Harry Peters slipping
Out of Mary Kelly's door
Snapped a quickie of some washing
He caught every little flicker
Of the windy entanglement of
Two shirts and a pair of knickers
He photographed his own left foot
And Sally Jones's nose
Four pound of mince in a butcher's shop
And a blooming climbing rose
Oh his little Digi camera
Opened up his eyes
For tout le monde knows
The camera never lies

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