Poems

Poem

He was seven and I was six, my Brendon Gallacher.
He was Irish and I was Scottish, my Brendon Gallacher.
His father was in prison; he was a cat burglar.

Poem

Let me do it, let me do it
Let me blow up the balloon
Let me do it, let me do it
Let me go to the moon

Poem

One moment they were there and we were having fun
Now they've disappeared, every single one.
I don't know where to go and I'm feeling rather scared

Poem

My Gran was a Caribbean lady
As Caribbean as could be
She came across to visit us
In Shoreham by the sea.

Poem

Nobody knows what Jonjo knows. Nobody knows but he,
So Jonjo took me for a walk and showed his world to me.

Poem

All you see is outside me: my painted smile,
the rosy-posy shell, the fluttery eyes.
A butter-won’t-melt-in-my-mouth-type me

Poem

We goin' on a school trip today,
De whole class goin' to Whitney Bay,
Ah teckin' me ball an' bat with me
To play beach cricket, an' let me see,

Red Cherry Red
Poem

I spied a small lonely boy.
I was his beautiful red balloon,
from morning through to noon,