Thursday, 25 August 2011

Going Home on the Kent Line

Ringing tones
and endless chatting
evening dear
I have arrived in Chatham

Will be late to Rainham too
I believe leaves on the track
is tonight's given excuse

Mind the gap said carriage of eight
we have arrived in Faversham
to change this train

Hold on tight not far to go
pass Reculvar
Birchington is home

George Henry Walter Binks

We say goodbye to George Henry Walter Binks,
who has sadly passed away, just when spring begins.

He was loved by all for his charm and wit,
and for stories he told with an added twist.

Right to the end he held his head high,
while fighting the pain that was hurting him inside.

So George Henry Walter Binks may you now rest in peace,
for we shall praise your love and courage which is now your


(my father-in-law had a stroke in February 2005 and sadly passed away that year. I wrote this poem specially for him and read it out at his funeral service)

Friday, 19 August 2011

The Tears of Lost

Why do tears fill your eyes?
your mind is lost
your thoughts are dry

Your body shakes
your speak is weak
the heart beats faster
you cry in your sleep

The love you felt
has gone away
but you are strong
to live the day

The tears of lost
are being replaced
but the joy of love
you found today


Nothing prepares you for the day
when you are called down
to hear your fate

A letter awaits
the managers are frown
bad news to give you
HR are around

Your time is up
after so many years
no time for sentiments
or even a few tears

You are out of the building
before you can breath
farewell to the city
what awaits me?

(I wrote this poem soon after I was made redundant in 2005, having worked in the City of London)

Climate Change

When I look back from outer space
the earth looks clean
and a peaceful place

I see the seas and mountains range
and areas of green
and cities set in grey
or is that the carbon haze?

But down on earth
things have changed
we talk about sustainability
and still mention the nuclear age

So will our carbon footprint
reduce in size?
or are we in for another frozen time?

The Coffee House

Forthy milk and coffee beans
jazzy music and nice soft seats
chatty people and media reads
muffins and shortbread
plus cold ice cream

Welcome to the coffee house
springing up in each town
you will hardly see a tea shop
competing with that coffee aroma smell

The march of the coffee house
is all around to see
long live the coffee bean
where is that poor tea leaf?

(This poem was sent in April 2005 to Starbucks Marketing Department)


It stands there alone,
two towers a loft,
a beacon for sailors,
and a nice picnic spot.

(printed in the Birchington Forum on 08.11.2005)