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.

Give The Ball to the Poet
Poem

Ah sey, ah want it short,
Short back an' side,
Ah tell him man, ah tell him
When ah teck him aside,
Ah sey, ah want a haircut
Ah can wear with pride,

Poem

Once everything was big
and you were small,
but year after year your shadow 
crept up the wall 
and you grew tall.

Poem

Hello! thanks for calling
I'm just off on my bike
That's my room up there
Take a look if you like.

Poem

Tomorrow has your name on it
It's written up there in the sky
As you set out on a journey
in search of the How? and  the Why?