White knight

Knight in white shining armour

I humbly offer thanks for

Rescuing me from storm’s grip. 

Although wind did whirl and whip,

With torrential rain pouring. 

Chill of sodden clothes gnawing;

Welcome sight to see your face. 

Now dry in warmth of your embrace. 

Poetry like water

During periods of drought
And feelings of self doubt,

I lack inspiration, become a lout.

It helps to go out and about;
Amble, absorb and tout. 

Passers by glimpse the pout.

Frustration mounts. 
Just want to scream, to shout,

To wake myself up with a clout;

Still fruitless at every bout. 

Can’t call myself poet devout. 
At times there are ideas I should flout.

Use notebooks to record, later rout them out. 

Now noises drown thoughts out
Needing and urging result in nowt. 

It’s enough to bring on one’s gout!


There is something 
Just beyond my vision;

Déjà vu perhaps. 

Unattached to place or person. 

I sense there is something beyond,

But beyond where?

It’s just out of reach. 

Should I avoid the barely sensed void?

Or ought I explore with thought?

What if it’s just imagination?

Protect the bandicoot 

Blue and green

Suburban scene

Local park

What a lark

Place of fun

Or catch the sun

Baseball or cricket

Within white picket

Dogs allowed on leash

And restricted off leash

Why give a hoot?

Protect the bandicoot!

Remember what is most important 

A dear friend gave us a yellow notepad with the above quote when we left the UK.  Since 1998 it has moved with us from home to home six times, preserved in  amongst other special mementos. 

In the last year it has had pride of place on the fridge; remaining even though all of the pages have been used.