The Oxford Book of English Verse abandoned In the waiting room of a Shropshire Railway Station

After many years of failure I discovered that my rock Was in the fact the west wind

I paddled as I walked towards the art gallery It was a warm summer’s day in autumn The sea was a flat sandy blue in colour I felt at peace with myself and the world The beach was quite empty apart from thirty Some were swimming but mainly like me They were admiring the mirror […]

I live next to a goods yard Where many redundant Railway carriages rest They are no longer used Forgotten and obscure But I love them all They are my life Sometimes at night I visit these cold carriages And explore the vacancy Of their compartments I can feel the history of journeys And can see […]

In an ancient wall was found The remains of a lift shaft That Christ might have used This poem does not have a title As I do not like vertical journeys

Esther was a serious girl Who apart from being an artist Was heavily into philosophy Last week she fell Into the mirror lake Whilst cycling on the jetty But could not appreciate The absurdity of the accident

Esther and Molly lived in the farmhouse Pretending to be undiscovered artists I worked in the city and visited at weekends As I loved counting the apples in the orchards

On Tuesday Molly and I cycled Through the orchards That fringed our estate I fell off my bike twice As the ground was uneven We later swam in the mirror lake Before returning to the apple shop Near the main entrance Where we worked together During the long hot summer days

I was brought up in the country In a small town near Bath It was an idyllic childhood Going out with the farmers Before school had even started And killing anything that moved I was an illiterate child As I did not understand Latin until I was six But I was loved By my parents […]

At 1302 this afternoon Bitter Everest Confessed to my murder This is not a confessional poem