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Our people




Celtic supporters singing their hearts out

in our tube carriage, green and white shirts on.

Their melody talks about happiness,

and finding it, misery left behind.

Passion chiming with my daughter, and I,

as our souls tap into ancestral codes.

The genetics of reckless joy blowing 

through London in a moment of friendship.


Recent Posts

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Fill your heart with photons

First poem added to my blog for a while: Fill your heart with photons   Pink-brown cheeks, peach scoops, my baby chick.   Fruit ciders,...

The Rocket

Ronnie’s feathered touch is on show on baize. His white queen charms red ball bee swarms. Ronnie’s rectangle shines under strip lights....

Fists

Hi Friends, Happy 2024! This poem was kindly published by Rhianna Levi and Black Pear Press last year in their life's wonders anthology....

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