Sometime soon, the song will end.

Then we’ll find the silence.

No more lines, no tune, no tempo,

Just a floating silence.

Please be glad the words were broken,

That was half their beauty.

You may miss their imperfection

When you hear the silence.


Long ago the song was growing,

From an ancient silence.

Like a plant that’s free and fertile,

Soon it filled the silence.

When its notes were soaring skyward

All our ears were open.

So we danced with joy and laughter

As we lost the silence.


But the song grew more discordant

As it lost the silence.

Soon no pause could break the turmoil

Left in place of silence.

Though we loved the notes we added

Harmony escaped us.

Now we need to calm the clamour.

Give us back the silence.

The Mime of the Trees

Tree in the WindWhen the night gets lighter,

And day does overtime,

The trees begin to primp and preen

And bend their boughs to mime

The story of the winter,

Of challenges they met.

Forgive the trees their boastful ways!

You owe them all a debt.


The trees are nature’s filter.

They clean the crowded ark.

Their struggle drawn on every leaf,

Proclaimed in twisted bark.

You fear that they’ll neglect you

As you neglect the soil,

But they will bind their suff’ring roots

To Earth’s immortal coil.

Fortune favours the brave

Leap.  Let not your feet on solid ground be felt.

Reach.  Lift up your hands to grasp the summoning sky.

Wish.  Make of your chances something you can keep.

And never let the meaning pass you by.


Wait.  For knowing comes at such a limping pace.

Watch.  Pick carefully the time you would reveal.

Touch.  A fingertip, a life, another place.

Such are the things that prove we still can feel.


Think.  Be sure your mind strides out upon the path.

Rest.  Take time to set your reasons row on row.

Stand.  Show all who care that you, at least, stay strong.

And you will bless the seasons as you go.

On the Hilltop.

Liverpool Sky

Go and look from the hilltop now.  Where we used to go.

Does it bring back thoughts of happier days?

Warmer summers and light-hearted ways?

Does it make you wish that those times had stayed?

I’d really love to know.


Go and sing all the songs we sang.  When we wanted the same.

Do they trip from your tongue like they used to do?

Like a secret language for me and for you?

Does it seem like the music is still playing through?

Like the changes never came.


Go and read from the books we shared.  When you needed me.

Do you turn all the pages like turning back years?

Laugh at the memories or choke back the tears?

If you sit there in silence, is it me that you hear?

Reading the words you see?


Go and look from the hilltop now.  And think of how we were.

Do you smile at the daft little ways that we had?

Remember the small things that made us so glad?

Do you wish we still sat here? Does it make you feel sad?

I’ll treasure the times we spent there..

This is about looking back at the times when my children were younger and we did more together. We almost never go anywhere as a whole family now and I miss that. The hilltop is Everton Brow, from where you get a fantastic view of Liverpool, the River Mersey and the Wirral Peninsula.

A poem about April for Chris B, inventor of the 5 minute quiz.

Hello shiny April. You’ve been gone so long.

Yet here you are, dancing and singing your song.

To rouse us from sleeping, to shake us awake,

With each stomping, Spring-loaded step that you take.

You scatter tomfoolery as you begin,

Then sit back and wait for buffoons to join in.

Renowned for your bluster, new life and for showers,

The call of the cuckoo, an abundance of flowers.

The panic of tax-forms, the National races,

The Marathon runners are put through their paces.

Is it true? Is it false that we’ve never had snow

In the last week of April? You have 5 minutes …GO!