Hotel for the birds

Birds, Life, Nature, Outdoors, writing

Salford, 23rd March 2019

Modified from an instagram post i posted this morning,

When i wake up

What do i see, beyond the works of

Writing on my desk ?

Wide, are the curtains flung – from

West to east – bringing light to the painted

walls where i do most of my scribbling

Marshmallow pillows float

softly in Salford Skies as

flocks of feathered friends

return from their alfresco restaurant, to

five star accommodation – peering across towards my way

as they enjoy the view.

Mountain Meadow

Art, Colours, Leisure, Life, Memories, Outdoor Pursuits, Outdoors, Parks, Places, Pleasures

#coloryourworld #cyw #mountainmeadow

Salford, 22nd February 2017


Lakeland, painting from photo by B.F.Kirkham

Mountain Meadow,

this colour takes me back to a particular time in my life

when my old boots would come off the stack in the hallway

and i’d journey with mates up and down the motorway

go north – and meet up with the cows of the lakes

rendezvous-ing with cows (mooing)

go south – and meet up with the sheep of the peaks

and reservoir regulars with bright coloured beaks

enjoying whatever the wind and the clouds threw at us

but mostly enjoying a sunny day.


A Tale of Old Boots

Good companion



Raison detre

Health, Life, Memories, Poetry


In response to the prompt

So then, why do I write ?

It’s a really good question, one which I’m honest Id have to admit the answer comes out of one of therapy rather than creativity

Back in my younger years, I was really good at it…characters spilled out onto blank exercise books to produce articles that a novice Tennyson, Orwell or Keats would have been proud of…comprehension well beyond my years one teacher wrote about me in a school report.

A meeting with a drop off a wall in school and a subsequent reunion with the neurological team at Salford royal put pay to that.

It took another two years before I could say I was back on my feet, but by then I was bearing a few scars…

College went well with support, as did a fateful experience at university but in the end the scrambled eggs of my memory got in the way of meaningful work.

So, combined with my trusty cameras …. I picked up my pen and began writing again, combining it with volunteer assignments across the county.  I’d do an event, and upon coming home scribble it down in poem or prose..

Most of them you’ll find on here.


Hidden Intentions

Life, Poetry, Prose


A piece of prose by the author, in response to the Prompt


What is that hiding behind your back ?

Something you do not want seen – hidden away

Who’s that for ?  What’ve you bought now?

Your face reveals nothing but a beaming smile

Clues abundant – around the house

Icing sugar and poster paint all over the kitchen

and hiding away in a colourful box

A special surprise – is under the stairs.