Overheard in a Tower Block

Kicking the pebbles along Eastbourne beach

as the orange-pink of sunset

plays with the ebbing tide,

my mother asks…



I feel it, first as a stir,
turning deep in the murky water.
Surfaces up for air, a twitch
on the lake in my head.
A flip, and it disappears.


We watch them, hypnotized.
Pale and mysterious,
They rise and fall. Joe says
“They look like ghosts.”


The jellyfish
dances through the water
waving its frilly underwear.

We found one on the beach.

It had become a polythene bag
full of water.

Zim Zam Zoom

Babies in the bath do it

puddles on the path do it

grannies for a lauch do it


    Splish! Splash! Splosh!


Dirty welly boots do it

The Rainmaker Danced

Who’d want to steal dew?

Maybe not me, maybe not you?

Then again, if you’d discovered

that dewdrops were heaven’s pearls


(the precious spittle of the stars