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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 >>

Summer 1961, Sussex

What a stupid situation
Twenty foot above the ground
But when I reach the bottom
I'm nearly half way round
It was Ronnie Hatchard said it
Hey boys lets have some fun
Go back to camp and do
The assault course run
Nobody had the senses
To say stupid idea
Just picked up his glass
And finished off his beer
And now it's after midnight
And it's cold and it's dark
And what seemed like such fun
Now just aint much of a lark
There's somebody up above me
And I think he feels the same
He's steadily pouring curses on
Old Ronnie Hatchard's name
My stomach's feeling queasy
There's a pounding in my head
Instead of hanging here
I should be in my bed
But I bet when we finish
There'll be no beery stagger
Just a walk to the billet
Full of pride and swagger

Summer 1961, Sussex



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