The brutal bombs pounded the city,

shrapnel flew and pierced each

animal, plant, person and planted 

in each the determined hatred

of the violence of warring sides.


The doom laden bang lit the sky,

fear filled canisters exploding,

threaten lives, homes and hearths

of thousands of throbbing hearts.


The sirens screamed their warning.

People woke in their thousands,

hid in shelters, tube stations and

under the stairs til all clear resounded.


The bomb is now a virus which rains

down its deadly cells. Each invisible

speck spots a human and hosts them,

chokes them, batters their brains, and


liver, kidneys, lungs and pains appear

in every place the bones are placed.

Thousands are killed and thousands 

more until the morgues are bursting.


A place to hide they shout from Oxford,

We have found a shelter for each of you,

A serum, no more, that will help you

face off Covid19 until it is dead, dead, dead.


Lies are as bad as Covid as they take 

lives from the innocent and destroy

mums and dads and lovely kids, while

the vaccine only seals C19’s fate.

They have a dream.

I have a dream, one cried.

to subjugate and sully

the lives of all those 

who are not like me.


I have a dream, two cried.

to bully and bait each and

everyone who cannot be

treated in my equality.


I have a dream, the third said,

to have power and control,

to be like the man at the 

head who takes all he wants.


I have a dream, the fourth said,

to be at the forefront and free

myself from the shackles of

morality and dependancy.


They each tread their dream

on the backs of others and 

ignore the cries of the child

and the downtrodden oppressed.

And they live fearful lives full

of lies and injustice and wars;

bringing unhappiness to their

greedy, opulent, grabbing hearth.


I have a dream, a voice cried,

where no one is less than, and

no one is stepped on and no 

one is abused, no one is bullied,

incited and no one is without.


I have dream, said another,

where each child has a childhood,

they each eat three meals a day,

they are safe and loved and 

become the best they can be.


I have a dream, came quietly,

of a world where no one flees,

no one makes wars or weapons,

everywhere justice and peace 

meet together; and hatred and 

avarice are swallowed by love.


Trodden pathways of hope and

to those seeing the good in all

peace comes to comfort them,

as they seek to listen and learn

then truth will tread their path.

As they join against injustice

mercy will be their measure.

As they reach out hands to

those in trouble – then they will

find that truth, peace and mercy 

will dwell in their hearth.

A Little Child Will Lead Them.

I looked and saw thousands of children, spilling

over the land, their eyes all alight and shining;

bright as the sunlight on the bright blue sea.


They danced and sang as they came, and their

many hued faces laughing with delight – for

these are cheerful children favoured by fortune .


I turned and saw a a multitude of small folk

walking to meet them; their gaunt faces and 

stumbling gait, like flotsam on a grey sea.


Some covered in dust from mines, some worn

thin by slavery, some battered by abuse and still

they come,  looking for kindling for their hope.


They meet in a garden, fruitful and seed bearing;

all things are possible. And, I see the blindness of

the privilege – as the dancing ones dance on, as


if their world is their right. And the grimness of 

loss unreal. Taught so well by their parents and 

the guardians of our governments. Their lashes


hid their peeping eyes as they swerved to avoid,

a hand raised to ward off wretchedness and waste,

I watch it -weeping in my soul and praying. Then


a courageous number stop and take the sad hands of

boys and girls, they look into their eyes and learn 

of the terrors and terrible pains they have endured. 


Then together they turn and walk into a future, where

children lead the way to justice, fair shares are for all,

and build a world where every child matters and, yet


still the others march on, ignoring their oppression,

fearfully, fleeing away from uncomfortable feelings

to a self-centred future where shame has died. 

The Wisdom of Trees

Branches brush their velvety, mossy fingers

evoking a rhythm of the beat of nature’s heart,

a breeze blows and a gentler pace breathes.


A storm grows and they scratch and drum, 

with fearful passions striving forward to peace.


They chant the songs of the seasons, and

break out new living leaves, that birth in 

bright greens falling to die in gold and yellow,


delighting the eyes of those who look, and

filling the ready minds with the knowledge

of their own destination with the deep peace

of knowing, that we share a soul cycle of

life that begets life; and the sensible stop



listen to the centuries of wisdom gathered

in their roots, where gentle voices are always

speaking, in low murmurs that only those

listening may hear above the susurrous

of daily living; crowding our cluttered minds.

Save the Jungle

I moved through the towering trees,

with their mellifluous melody and

various greens and browns, reds and 

yellows painting a kaleidoscope, and


a perfect canvas for the glory of nature 

there. Awed, as in a holy place I saw,

the joyous sound of water over stone.

I sat and watched its furious rushing

forcing its way to a distant          ocean.


Butterflies lighted on my hands fearlessly,

ants strolled by and monkeys chanted,

while birds of every colour flew, making

a whirlwind, a multi-hued iridescence.


I watched water crashing and falling,

rainbows marching through the spray.

giving grace to the multitude that 

played with Iris, the mother of

their dancing, light-splitting joy. 


Around me damsels flitted, and all 

around brilliance burst like fireworks.

I marvelled at the spectrum dancing 

amongst the foliage in pure delight.


Silence and awe filled my senses,

but as I turned to take my leave I saw

in the distance, not the sun and skies 

of blue, but menacing darkness, which


smashed, and slashed out that life; that 

gave this spectacle its smorgasbord 

of iridescence and hues. Marching 

mercilessly the army of humans 

trashed their homes

replacing the hallowed

with stumps

and a graveyard