There is a zombie on my washing line I think it is Japanese but I cannot be sure It is quite disgusting all bones decay and d   I think it has a thing about pigeons As it screams at them as they feed On my rotting violet lilac bird table   Soon I will […]

When I was released from prison just over five years ago I dug up the loot and purchased a house in Looe Nobody knew of my past which was useful As I had an aggressive budgie which I named Surf Nazi’s Shaft America/Michael For Short This bird had an even more chequered history than me […]

Unlike previous days when the air was humid The sea breezes that greeted Friday were considerably cooler Jane was preparing an apricot tart in the red kitchen And I was painting a rambling shed in her lilac lady garden We were both looking towards the southern downs As we had plans to walk there later […]

You can dance if you want to  I was listening to The Safety Dance By Men Without Hats When I noticed that goats Were dancing in a nearby field This puzzled me As goats normally discuss philosophy On hot July days  

Henry   I was in Cannes and was due to attend a screening on the new Leos Carax movie Annette My beautiful wife Jane was also invited and had purchased a lovely black dress for the occasion However I fell from a low wall whilst returning a fledgling to its nest and broke my ankle […]

A small likeness of you had been hidden in a forgotten mailbox for over thirty years It was discovered by accident by a passing postman who was driving his bright red van   The painting was soon returned to me and I kept it in my studio awaiting your return As you were living with […]

It is not what you look at That matters  It is what you see   I was thinking about Thoreau As we strolled around The backstreets of Margate   To my great surprise There had been pockets Of complete silence   This was quite evident On the sand flats Between the sea and the beach […]

Please note that this poem has been censored as as SS Sisters do not wish to offend those less fortunate than ourselves   We were asked a question recently A question Yes We get asked many questions What was the question How long had we been sisters Really What was your answer We told the […]

I  write my poetry on mirrors As this helps me to relax I write poetry on mirrors For the very same reason     From The Poems of Stephen (1970)  

Quite suddenly the breeze started to cool   the evening had arrived and the sun was by now low behind me   long shadows betrayed its position   the day was spent   a white yacht on the horizon shared its memories with those who had lingered on the island beach as white yachts always do