I live here
In a house near a city
At the end of a journey
With hum drum and the day to day

I live here
Have lived here
Thity years and more
A wife a daughter now flown

I live here
But I don’t belong here
I belong on a hillside
With my thoughts and my strangeness

I grew on that hillside
Staring into space
Staring down at the valley
Flood and snow and fields of colour

I live here
I cannot go back
To that hillside
Though it is where I belong

I know that
I shall always know that
To the day when breath it leaves me
And returns to that hillside for all time


Sons Of Magna Carta

My sons of Magna Carta
How does it sit with you
This so-called negotiation
With bureaucrats and fonctionnaires
Unelected arrogance
Snarling in the face of democracy
Rejecting the ballot box of millions
With a desire to punish and belittle

It is time
To stand firm and test their mettle
For they fear their own psyches
Their unity a facade
To protect them from themselves
From the cracks within
And if compromise defeats
Then my sons of Magna Carta
Smile and turn and walk away

Try self-publishing

I worried about self-publishing but finally had a go, over the last 12 months producing six e-books and five paperbacks through Amazon. Their software is fine. No, I don’t expect to make money. That’s not the point. It’s been about self-discovery and trying to be creative. And a feeling of self-worth!