A spider

In the corner.
She lurks.
She hides.
She shirks.
She scuttles.
She spins long, long,
tendrils of silken thread.
Ample amounts of yarn
to catch any unsuspecting.
flies who hover too close

Spiky feet take turns to
test air currents.
Suddenly she descends
along an invisible line.
Some people are scared.
I am not
I escort the spider outside because
I spied her.


Clouds. they are blown into cotton ball streamers by wild winds. when they get black and heavy rain pours, lightning strikes and thunder rolls. I love the fluffy cumulus clouds. Looking up at the sky i see such funny things. A saucepan, a man with a massive nose, a trumpet. But today I was told these clouds hold computer data. They are very useful. I have seen both sides now. Clouds.

At the Bus Stop

At the bus stop while
waiting for the bus
a lady smiled at me and asked
aren’t you a musician?
I think I met you once before.
Haven’t you sung at Carnegie Hall?
Haven’t you been to London and Rome
singing at amazing places and then returning home?

I answered ‘I am only me’.
I have just been very lucky.
I was at the right place at the right time.
Someone else deserves all the credit.
He put all the work and the effort into it.
He helped write the music with two other people.
and went across to Europe to make
sure we could do it.

The lady said ‘I remember you.
I was so impressed with how you spoke.
We were waiting for a bus in Berwick,
you, myself and two other ladies.
You were full of enthusiasm for your music.
But I did not get your name and then you were gone.

I answered ‘if you love singing, ‘
come and join us.
Come sing with me and my friends.

Not Going Anywhere Fast

I wrote a new poem regarding the terrible news that Tramp is going to be the new leader of the free world for the next 4 years. Nothing is going to be free by the time he has finished with it. I called it

Not Going Anywhere Fast.

I looked outside the window
and could not believe I saw
the S S Marie Celeste
going past my door.
Captain Obama took the last lifeboat
and the ship’s crew all jumped overboard.
A new captain is at the wheel
dressed in Obama’s clothes.

The new captain is a dangerous sort,
a vagabond at best
he has a tattoo
‘Power is Mine’
inked darkly on his chest.
A manic smile on his face,
he stares back at me.
He holds the lives of those I love
in his fist and squeezes them together tightly.
Toupe slightly off kilter,
his pants held up with rope,
nobody thinks he looks funny
but everybody thinks
‘how are we going to cope’?

I wake up and hear the news today
of what America has done.
4 years of Trump presidency
and that time has just begun.
But if we stand hand in hand
and immerse ourselves in the arts
hopefully we will stay afloat
when all the madness starts.

For we are the ship’s crew who
jumped overboard when Trump came on board.
Some people voted while
other stayed in bed and snored.
The only hope is if we stay together
4 years will go fast
Let’s sing more, join more choirs,
immerse ourselves in the arts.
Trump is not going anywhere.
We have the sail’s mast.

Choir Spread

I have a new poem which is called ‘Choir, a spread of joy’. Here it is. Hope you like it.

Not many people know of this
but there is a spread
set way up high
on the tallest shelf.
If you asked a sales person
to bring it down
you would see it for yourself.
that this spread is
the best spread the world will ever see
full of richness and flavour and
vibrant diversity.

All types of people come together to make a choir,
song unites us together
and differences make us unique
we leave our trouble at the door
grab our music and stand up on our feet
‘All Eyes on Conductor’ as he blends us into one
until we are smoooooooooth
like melted chococolate spreading outward
in an icky, sticky goo.

This goo is made with love
as we all love to sing,
it is made with tolerance,
we are all the same under our skin,
it is made with patience
lots of work required to get the song right,
the spread is poured into bottles
and the lid is screwn down tight.

I hope this spread is shipped
throughout the world
I hope this spread goes to places
where love and understanding is required
and sharp stones are hurled
For the Choir spread ingredients
are social inclusion and love
if you ever experience it
life will not be as rough

Made With Love

two cakes – one made perfectly,
tastes beautiful, looks beautiful but made by an unknown person.
second cake doesn’t look perfect
but tastes really good.
The second cake does not stand up straight
but it is made with love.
This ingredient makes the cake extra special.
A person has spent the whole day on it
making it for her mother’s birthday.
If it was me, I would choose the second cake.
I was the person who made the cake for my mother.

The Show Must Go On

The show must go on
but then it ends.
The show is the time
when we can show what
we can do with our friends.
In a blink it is over.
All the weeks of practice
ending with a bow.
Onward and upward,
we will learn how.
New songs to learn
new tricks to remember
but what I remember and
love the most
is at rehearsal when
we sing.

Rehearsal is the time
we learn not just the notes
but to sing with our friends.
Listening and appreciating
each voice in each seat.
A friendly chat and a cup of tea.
I love to collect all the cups at the end.
It is my way of saying
‘I love singing with you my friend’.