Category Archives: Poetry

Coronation Day.

Today is Coronation Day. Here’s Haiku.

We have a new king.

Coronation is today.

A new era begins.

And a limerick.

Today my mobile did ring.

When I answered, it was the king.

He said, with a frown,

‘I’ve lost the crown.

A nice hat, instead, will you bring?’

Will you be watching the Coronation, or will you go out somewhere and ignore it?

I might watch a bit, but won’t be watching everything.

Maybe I can get some writing done. I got done none yesterday!

Let us know your thoughts in the comments. I will be interested to know the consensus of people, especially those abroad.

Spring Cleaning–A poem.

Image by congerdesign from Pixabay

Not my favourite job to do, but when the sun shines in, it makes the dust more noticeable. So it’s a job that has to be done.
And the satisfaction at the end makes it all worth while.

Spring Cleaning.

The sun is now shining making everything light

So it’s time to make our homes shiny and bright.

Let’s pick up our dusters and polish all day

Till every speck of dust goes away.

We’ll clean all our paintwork and make it as new

And polish silverware so your face you can view.

Then wash all the curtains and clean all the floors

And see if we need some more paint on our doors.

‘Spiders beware, don’t you build any webs.

We’ll knock them all down with our brushes,’ I said.

Sweeping and polishing all of the day

Until the last smidgen of dirt’s gone away.

Now stand back and look at all we have done.

A shiny and perfect home. We have won.

Have you done any spring cleaning yet? I’ve washed my dining room curtains and cleaned out my kitchen cupboards. Still a lot more to do!

British Wild Flowers. The Lesser Celandine.

Lesser celandines are one of the earliest wild flowers to appear, blooming from late January until the end of April.

They are small, growing to a mere 2-3 inches, but form masses of flowers. They look gorgeous when in bloom. A veritable carpet of yellow stars.

They are found on banks, at the edges of woods and paths, in grassland. In fact, almost everywhere. One might be tempted to put some in the garden, but think twice. Although they are lovely little flowers and bloom when there isn’t much else, they can be invasive.

They spread from tiny tubers which grow in the leaf axels. Rooting them out can be a problem as it can help them to spread! My suggestion is to enjoy them where they are. I did see some for sale in a local garden centre. They were lovely with unusual dark, reddish leaves. Very tempting.

I understand, from reading on the net, that their leaves are a rich source of vitamin C. Useful at a time when, in past ages people hadn’t had much green vegetables during the winter months and may have been suffering from scurvy as a result. I have no experience of eating these leaves, and so cannot recommend them as a salad vegetable. ALWAYS CHECK FOR TOXICITY BEFORE EATING ANYTHING GATHERED FROM THE WILD.

Here’s a little poem to the celandine.


Little stars litter the grass.

Have they fallen from the sky?

They are shining when I pass

Reflecting sun’s rays from on high.

Celandines are here to say

Winter’s gloom is nearly past.

Spring is really on the way;

Warmth will soon be here, at last.

Bright and cheerful little flowers

Covering the woods and banks  

Creating lovely yellow bowers.

We should all be giving thanks.

I hope you enjoyed this little post about one of our early spring flowers. Feel free to share it with anyone you think might find it interesting, but please link back to this blog if you do.

If you want to read more of my poetry, you can buy my first poetry anthology, Miscellaneous Thoughts, by clicking on the book cover in the side bar or the title in this paragraph.

I just looked at my poem on the preview, and the breaks between the verses does not appear even though I added them when writing. this always happens and I wonder why. Does anyone know why?

Please leave your comments in the comments box. I love hearing from you.

Pettic. A poem

This is not a poem that appears in a book, but it’s about a character in the Elemental Worlds duo.


Pettic was a farmer’s son who loved to plough the land

Until one day his life did change in a dramatic way.

He was chosen from many lads to obey Prince’s command

And go to live in the palace, far, far away.

He was to be companion, confidant and friend

To Prince Torren, the Crown Prince, the king’s son and heir.

And with the Prince, his lessons he also would attend.

But then the Prince disappeared, nobody knew where.

So Pettic chose to go in search of his dear friend.

He visited strange worlds like nothing he had seen

And faced great dangers, helped the folk, their lives he did defend.

And found what he was looking for when he did intervene.

For in four lands he had to find four gems that were the key.

Will young Pettic find all that is required 

To find Prince Torren and set him free? 

If you wish to know the answer to the last question, you can find out by reading The Stones of Earth and Air, which is free as an ebook on Amazon, and The Stones of Fire and Water. Follow these links to buy at your favourite store.

St Patrick’s Day

Image by Jill Wellington from Pixabay

Today is St Patrick’s Day. Here’s a poem in tribute to him. I’m a bit late posting, I know, but I had to write it first! Of course, he didn’t really banish the snakes from Ireland, but it’s a good story.

St Patrick 

A boy was captured and taken for a slave

Across the sea, but he remained brave.

A shepherd in Ireland for six long years

He escaped and ran home to family cheers.

A Christian he was, and hearing God’s call

Was ordained as a priest to the joy of all.

God called once again that he should go

Back to Ireland to preach, and so

He sailed once more across the sea.

And converted many to Christianity 

And with his staff he gave a command

And all the snakes left that land.

On March seventeenth, in the year four sixty

He passed into Heaven on that isle so misty.

He’s remembered still by the Irish folk

On the isle  of Ireland where he spoke

And all round the world where Irish dwell

They still remember, and his story they tell.

WAR. A Poem.

It is a year since Russia invaded Ukraine. Can’t understand it. Here’s a poem. !


Why must humans go to war?

What do they hope to gain?

I think that most of us deplore

That it started again.

Why do the leaders think it’s right

For many folk to die?

And make people resort to flight

And bid their homes goodby?

Two world wars in years long past

Brought much pain and grief.

The numbers dead were so vast

It is beyond belief

That it could all begin again

With Russia entering Ukraine

Mrs Vine’s Secret. A Valentine poem by my Mum.

I have been writing and publishing poetry on my blog for some time, but my Mum also wrote poetry. This is one of hers. I hope it amuses you.


The postman said to Mrs Vine

“Now who’s sent you a Valentine?”

But Mrs Vine just shook her head.

“I really cannot think,” she said.

“Whatever’s this?” her daughter cried.

“It’s many years since Father died.

You’re much too old to have a beau,

But if you have, I ought to know!”

The next door neighbour seemed quite vexed.

“A Valentine? Whatever next?

You’re a dark horse, Mrs V.

Who can this strange admirer be?”

The story spread from door to door.

“Why didn’t we find out before?

We never had the slightest sign

That someone fancied Mrs Vine.”

Questions echoed down the street.

“What sort of menfolk does she meet?

The butcher? The insurance man?

The lad who drives the grocer’s van?”

The meter-reader seems quite nice…

Some looked at their husbands twice.

Mrs Vine was most amused

To see her neighbours so confused.

And chuckled to herself with glee.

“It was well worth the thirty p.”

I decided to publish my poems and sent them off to my publisher. Above you can see the cover in paperback, on tablet or on phone.

It is available in a number of formats from your favourite store.

There is also a variety of merchandise featuring this cover, including a frosted pint glass, scented candle, playing cards, a unisex t-shirt, 1,000piece jigsaw puzzle, a spiral note pad and a tote bag.

Why not take a look?

Or go to the store where you can buy the book.

Leila. A Cat poem.

I wrote a doggy poem not long ago and Geoff Le Pard commented ‘What next? A Kitty ditty?’

Well, I didn’t want to write one similar to the doggy one, so I wrote this about my daughter’s cat.


Someone said, ‘ Does your daughter own a cat?’

I answered, ‘Not at all, but a cat owns her.’

The puss is named Leila, and if on her chair you sat

She sits at your feet and gives a hard stare.

A pretty cat, she has long tabby fur

But is not very sociable, not liking people much.

But on my daughter’s lap you can hear her purr

As she delights in my daughter’s touch.

One day my daughter’s husband sat on her chair.

This annoyed Leila so she got her own back.

She sat on the Sky box, which he thought unfair

As she glared at him with a look so black


She runs the whole family with an iron rod

But the rod is set in a velvet paw.

She knows in ancient Egypt she’d have been a god

And that  knowledge is enough for her.

I enjoy reading your comments, so please enter them in the comments box.

If you want to buy any of my books, you can do so by clicking on the cover in the side bar. This will take you to where you can choose to buy at the platform of your choice.

If you like to listen to your stories, many of them are also released as audiobooks.

My New Year Resolution

A bit late to be talking about this, I know, but the only thing I resolved to do was to write a poem a day. So far, I’ve managed it.

I’m posting today’s poem for you to see. I hope you like it.

I have no idea what prompted me to write this one!

The Local Dog Show.

Big dogs, small dogs,

Running after ball dogs.

Black dogs, white dogs,

Ready for a fight dogs.

Tall dogs, short dogs, 

And all kinds of sports dogs.

Good dogs, bad dogs,

Happy and sad dogs.

Short dogs, tall dogs,

Won’t come when you call dogs.

Skinny dogs, fat dogs,

This one and that dog.

All shapes and sizes

Hope to win some prizes.

Add you comments to the comments box. I love to hear from you.

If you would like to receive an exclusive, free short story by me, called The Haunted Table, simply click the link. This will take you to the page where you can download it.

Maria and Tom have bought an antique table for the old cottage they have bought. When they hear strange noises in the night that sound like crying, they worry their house is haunted, but the sounds seem to come from the table.

They set about trying to find what is causing the disturbances. The answer is stranger than either of them had thought.

(Clicking the link will add your email address to my email list, but don’t worry, you can unsubscribe immediately if you wish. Nor will you get any spam. I only send out an email each quarter, or if I have any exciting news–like a new release.)

The Littlest Christmas Tree

Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

As it gets nearer to Christmas, Christmas trees are going up everywhere. Yes, I know some have been up since November! Here’s a poem about one.

The Littlest Christmas Tree.

The other trees looked oh so tall

To he, who was so very small.

And now it is the time of year

When everyone is filled with cheer.

Some men came for the tallest tree.

They took him with them, full of glee.

He was going into town.

In Market Square he’d wear a crown.

The littlest tree watched on as folk

Bought others. He was full of hope

That soon he would be picked to go

To a home where he’d put on a show.

But people passed him by and said,

“That one’s too small. Take another instead.”

His branches drooped. He was so sad,

Until a man came, with a lad.

Most other trees had long been sold.

The little tree stood in the cold.

“Look, there’s a small one,” said the lad

As he turned towards his dad


“It will just fit in our hall.

We can’t have one that is too tall.”

And so they came with spade and dug

Around his roots, all in the mud.

The littlest tree went home with them.

The lights and baubles gleamed like a gem.

He was so happy in that home

With all the love around him shown.

But Christmas passes soon away.

Then there came that dreaded day.

They took away the lights and balls.

“What happens now?” was all his thoughts.

He saw the tall trees passing by

On lorries, going off to die.

Their needles withering and brown

On their proud branches, drooping down.

Fear now filled the littlest tree.

“Is that what’s going to happen to me?”

But then the Dad came with a spade.

“I’ll not throw that for which we’ve paid.”

He dug a deep hole for the roots

And tamped it down with his big boots.

“We’ll let him grow, and then next year

We’ll bring him in again. Don’t fear.

And so the littlest tree was glad

That he’d been bought by this kind dad.

For now he has naught to fear.

He’s decorated every year.

I hope you enjoyed reading my poem.

If you would like to read more of my poetry, I have a poetry book recently published. It’s called Miscellaneous Thoughts and can be bought from your favourite store by clicking here where you can buy it from your favourite store. Or click on the book cover in the sidebar.