Food Seasons


#writeclub #freezing

Photo by Pixabay on

If you think you’re feeling cold today

count yourself lucky

you could be a bird

hanging about in the winter time

tending to its clutch of eggs

while cold winds from the north

blow through the trees

that said, you could be a fish

down in the water of the darkest sea

the ice might be on the surface

cold and bright white

but its perishing below

you could be a vegetable

freshly picked today

and put in a bag with others

before you can get away

then stored in a great big chiller

with the door closed behind you with ease

its a hardlife, living as it does

as a garden pea.


Preparing for Chaos

#writeclub #emergency #chaos

Photo by cottonbro on

The boxes were laiden

with supplies galore

in case those in charge

needed more

“Emergency Rations”

it said on the tin

Sprats in Tomato contained therein

First aid and Bandages

creams and Pills

all kept in their boxes

for the leaders ills

Radio squealing

to a city nearby

with fully propped aircraft

in case they had to fly

Transistors playing Radio 4

with news from the outside

and little else more

For those with the power

were locked down in their hole

self – survival their ultimate goal

Industrial Life Nature


Salford, 9th November 2021

(response to a write club theme by inky)

What’s that noise ?

beyond the glass

up in the rooftops

its the birds that pass

surveying the autumn pickings

on the frost laden grass

What’s that noise?

beyond the bricks

the pipes are playing

at quarter to six

rolling water like streams

to keep us warm

the noise that it makes though

isn’t the norm.

Open the window

industry’s here!

rolling down the A road

without a fear

Following each other like a load of ham

ending on the tarmac in a big traffic jam

What’s that noise?

above my head

I’ve heard it since I rose

and got out of bed

chirping and cheeping – and always on time

A family of sparrows – its breakfast time


A thought on Flight

#Poetry #Flight #writeclub

Photo by Sam Willis on

like a host of enthusiastic raindrops

passing the window with colour

like an apple and pear

racing to reach the grass below

like that fruit

falling into a copper pan and resting on a pie crust

like a host of travelling blossoms

moved along by the wind

like a worm dropping

from a newly owned nest

like a bird hopping off a roof

to catch that worm

like a suitcase on a travelator

on a brand new expedition

like a new adventure

under sunny skies, off across the sands

Life Poetry

Looking at a line full of laundry

Salford 1st November

Response to a Writeclub Prompt by Inky

#Larkhillplace #writeclub #street #Salford

There’s a breeze tonight

a perfect westerly

don’t need to check the weather forecast

and i’ll tell you why

tween lark hill place and ackers st

the mangles have been working overtime

and Mrs Protheroe’s washing

is hanging on the line

The kids clothes are flying at half mast

while the young ladies are flying like flags

and Mr Protheroe’s socks are swaying in breeze

along with his Oxford Bags

Now you might be concerned for the safety

for the Protheroe’s washing on line

but the washing’s been clipped on quite tightly

and the Policeman says everything’s fine

There’s only one thing of concern now

and its to do with Mrs Protheroe’s suit

for try as they might – the kids could use it as a kite

and it’ll be hanging in the air like a ‘chute!


A Small Crime


a writeclub piece by inky

Photo by Pixabay on

In their own way

the bank staff declared

an unofficial holiday

Bold as brass – they walked out with sass

with all the copper pennies

increasing the cost of the sweet shops

the 99p shops and chemmies

for while they were living the high life

with the money that they had pinched

the storeholders had to recoup their loss

and the shoppers – they all flinched

for as 1p turned to 2p,

2p turned to five

and 10p treats rose to 50p

with kids screaming “Man Alive!”


Out of the clouds


Photo by Sourav Mishra on

Out of the clouds

a raindrop fell

he’d hung on to his cloud

for what seemed like forever

but was now heading for

terra firma

falling and tumbling

turning and morphing

at terrific speed

with others following

and catching him up

creating a reservoir down the tarmac street

and circular patterns to the raindrops beat

Food Poetry writing

Every kind of potato

Photo by Michael Burrows on

How’d you like your spuds ? , lass,

I say, How’d you like your spuds

Boiled or Mashed ? Baked or fried

with spices and vinegar liberally applied ?

Perhaps you’ll like them roasted

with herbs or chilli scattered

served alongside a lovely fish

thats been breaded or perhaps battered

Maybe you’ll eat em in a salad

diced with mayonnaisse

and served up with cucumber on lettuce

in a number of different ways

Some tatas have a taste all of their own

and served up they’re really posh

bringing some elegance to your dinner plate

a higher level of nosh

but as you won’t find a red russet

in your fish shop as you wish

you’ll enjoy a plate of premium whites

crisped up for the fish

Food Poetry



Outdoors in the Midsummer wind

is a girl practicing Tai Chi on the lawn

Something she does each morning

before enjoying a morning feast

of egg and toasted soldiers

You could say its all reletive

as each piece of toast mirrors each other

around the plate

sausage provide occasional symmetry

but dont bring up the subject of beans

chasing them round – doesn’t bring balance

Emotions Growing up Poetry

Close encounters of the slurred kind


Photo by Charlotte May on

The fluted cocktail glass

took a fateful tumble on the bar floor

after third refill of that cocktail

everyone told her not to have

The luminosity of the puddle

led to some strange things “Blowing her mind”

her mates watched on

as she performed the fandango with a streetlight called Bill

Her pals got her home eventually

navigating her stillettos

over craftily curved cobbles

and limestone slabs

Sobering up, made her ponder

how her silver coins had changed

into salty cashew nuts

propped up by the garden gate

singing along to the cats chorus