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Poem

It is midnight in the ice rink
And all is cool and still.
Darkness seems to hold its breath
Nothing moves, until

Poem

The man sitting on the settee,
stroking a cat and watching TV
isn't me.
I am the settee.

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

A stranger called this morning
Dressed all in black and grey
Put every sound into a bag
And carried them away

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?

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