My mother never loved my father,
A man who even at the best of times was a drunk and a gambler.
Whether she loved me was a question I thought of habitually
And to some great extent,
But with little in the way of conclusion.
Read more "The house on the hill – One further poem"
Twisting, turning, house is burning,
Wiggle wiggle waggle waggle woo.
Read more "Wiggle wiggle – a poem"
People with lives, lives like shooting stars, gleaming and bright and rare, rare as grass that’s green, water that’s blue.
Read more "This Town Has People In It"
Loony Lovegood looking girl,
Leaning right to see,
With swoosh of magic silver hair,
The curly mess of me.
Read more "Loony lovegood looking girl – a love poem"
Oxford boy, dear oxford boy,
Read more "Oxford Boy – A Love Poem"
Walked in before my shower
Watched with careful glower
Looking strong and rather dower.
And I didn’t mean to stalk you,
But I know that’s what I did.
Read more "Oxford Girl – A love poem?"
It’s not all about the girl, I promise.
Read more "It’s not all about the girl – A Poem. Again."
It’s so much more complex.
Just because I spend my weekends
Reading through our texts.