Stitch This

  • Poetic panic

    Poetic panic

         There’s a special kind of terror When you’re lying on the beach And you’re suddenly aware that your child is out of reach And you can’t see hide nor hair of him He has gone with out a trace And you are seeing milk cartons Printed with his smiling face Then, you spy him,…

  • Parked

    Parked

    I have an itch, I have a scratch I sometimes wonder if I can match My old ways, my triumphs, my career success. Will I ever, like I once did, get power dressed? My glories have gone now I’m off the fast track I’ve stepped down and slowed down I’ll never go back. But I…

  • whine

    whine

    With apologies to The Stranglers… Chardonnay Chardonnay yes I know what people say that you’re just the same as eating cakes of cream. i can dream, oh I can dream… that one day they’ll devise wine that doesn’t hit my thighs wine that actually makes you fit and thin Shrinks your skin and sucks you…

  • Num-mum-bers

    Num-mum-bers

    today is the last day of national poetry writing month. So I thought I would think about my blog – poetry has become part of my blog and hopefully, it will continue. Just don’t boo me off the stage quite yet! And no, I’m not being paid, this is purely my opinions.  Stats are numbers…

  • I see the Finishing tape

    I see the Finishing tape

    its almost the end: The end of the month. The end of the (rhyming) line. The coda, Full stop.  Start again.  One more time. I’ve been quite hermetic, I’ve not written much. But I’m happy I’ve written what’s right. And I’ve put myself into my words, spilt my blood, Vented spleen, cried some tears, late…