LOST Loose, flailing. The breadcrumbs snatched away, So I fumble blindly in the darkness. I see hands, many hands, But none reach out to help. Instead they dig, Churning up mud, searching for treasures As I drift past. All of us are alone, But only one of us is truly lost. Advertisements
Mechanical Cyclops, Rumbling out of the fog. Ugly, noisy, relentless, Your metal hide vibrates As you roll over unsteady ground. We pass, Two vessels in the night, Both on separate journeys, But united by the open road.
This is a poem I wrote for a competition, which I unexpectedly won last year. The brief was to write something about Doctor Who, and I chose to pay tribute to my first Doctor, the legendary Tom Baker… IV He’s sat there in the tea shop: An unravelled yarn Of brooding eccentricity. A long scarf […]
Here is my effort for February’s Fiction in 50 challenge, where one has to come up with a piece of fiction at exactly 50 words. The theme was ‘love in the time of…’ and I chose sadism. Let me know what you think. Love in the Time of Sadism You wanted to give him your […]
As some of you may know, I had a poetry anthology published a few years back. This poem, Lilies, features in that collection, and is one of my personal favourites. I have re-edited it, and I thought I’d post it here for you all to see. I like the romance of it, the melancholy but […]
The last pebble on the beach, Untouched by the tide. Ignored by the gulls, And half-buried in the sand. Invisible to all. Unneeded. No purpose, Just there. Cold. Hard. A small black blip upon a golden sprawl, Void of feeling. . . The waves of life roll on, Refusing to sweep you away with them. * […]