Discover me, hiding between the bookshelves

My trenches from which to peer out at the world.


Discover me, a hardback in front of my face

My shield and protector from prying eyes.


Discover me, writing as fast as the words come to mind

My pen is my sword, I’ll use it to fight.


Discover me.

Unravel me.

Reveal me.


There just might be more to me than you think.



Hurrah! It’s the monthly fun that is dVerse Open Link, and the bar is open! Beth is tending bar today – she’s new, so be kind, and don’t tut, roll your eyes or indicate any other expressions of impatience as she learns where all the special beers and ales are kept.

This monthly get together has no theme, it is purely for us poets to offer up our creations and revel in all the offerings laid out before us. Why not join in, either be reading and commenting, or even by putting your work on show too? We don’t bite!

My offering is partially inspired by the inner life of a solitary writer, mixed up with influences from recent family history talk and many wonderful photos I was lucky enough to see last weekend, en famille.



Fool’s Gold

I wonder if in a future to come
We’ll ponder on the verb ‘to frack’
If our horizons will make us all glum
At the backbone that we lack

For want of a nail, the shoe falls off
For want of a mind, we act as one
We crumble, shake, allow others to scoff
And squander our Earth in pursuit of fun

My heart is hopeful, half-full is my glass
As protestors take a brave, strong stand
But I’m afraid we’ll fall on our collective ass
Swap morals for oil and sell off all our land!


This week on dVerse, our Swedish bar-tender Bjorn wants us to write dagsvers, or daily verse, a journalistic form of poetry that (sadly) only seems to appear in Nordic newspapers. These poetic comments on current events, maybe with a touch of fun, are a wonderful idea! I’m afraid I’m not up to adding a cartoon style drawing to set off my sardonic little poem, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. And yes, I confess it is on the dark side of funny, but hey, you should know how I roll by now!

Please do go and visit the other wonderful poets who take part in the dVerse community and do, do, do comment! We all love a comment!


Gas Street Basin

Bypasses and ringroads

motorbikes and cars

modern modes of transport

leave their gaping scars upon this land

so green and pleasant,

we yearn for times gone by

but gazing at the narrow-boat

I wonder if our eye has rose-tinted

our view of the water-born

workhorse, now driven for pleasure

coal-carrying forgotten as we

pursue times of leisure and joy.

The canals were our highways,

industry was fuelled by these watery

paths – fumes, dust and noise

clogging the arteries of England’s

long spine.


This week on dVerse Poetics, Shanyn would like us to write about the rhythm of transport. This long weekend, I have been staying with my family who hail from what southerners in England refer to as The North. Well, I was born and brought up in the West Midlands, which is hardly The North, but we do have a lot of industrial history of which to be proud!

Apparently, my birth city of Birmingham has more canals than Venice, and they were used for commerce in support of the the Industrial Revolution. I imagine that they were dusty, noisy, smelly and very, very busy. Traffic jams of narrowboats would have been commonplace, especially in places such as Tardebigge, which has a flight of  30 locks. Taking a boat through a lock system is not to be taken lightly! These days, the canals are used for pleasure, and I think many people tend to to forget that they were the motorways of their day. So, this was my inspiration! Oh, and Gas Street Basin is where a number of canal systems meet in the centre of Birmingham – very pretty now, not so lovely back in the times when it was a working hub of the canal system.

I hope you enjoy this – please pop over to dVerse to see how my fellow poets have been inspired!