I have written poems on and off since I was at school.  See below for a small selection.


When the eyes open
I am already in the water.
The unwelcome sky hangs impossibly large;
my harried thoughts rushing
into its cavernous space.
The clouds are not silent,
they purr, feline, through the cracked horizon,
teeth curdle the air in their path.

Where is gravity
to ground the addled, fleeing mind?
Gasping in this moon-thin air
only water holds the body to the globe.

I can see Kessingland beach;
our car parked nearby
and the two of us hand in hand
tottering over pebbles and shells.
Lying on our backs I can tell
how the sky holds no fear
as we declare love to the clouds.

But I can’t get there.
The ebb tide holds me away;
a cat’s cradle of conflicting currents.
I just can’t get there.
Only the sharp needles of recollection
pierce the blue above,
until the lids’ welcome fall.