Space & Fate.

Music rides over,
Air in this room,
It speaks to say,
It’ll be over soon.

A temporary feeling,
Sad, hollow days,
Will go quite soon,
Begin a new phase.

You’ll find a place,
Glue all the pieces,
Smile once again,
Rich as creases.

Soon home will be,
Beside him where,
I know I belong,
Just lying there.

Warm with love,
Bathed in light,
Glowing with heat,
In the dark of night.

Until that day,
I’ll rest in wait,
Time and destiny,
Space and fate.


Always The Quiet Ones.

Wash more, drink less,
Tidy up, your hair’s a mess,
Efficient life, faithful wife,
Kill her with a kitchen knife.

Office job, blow job,
Connoisseur, wine snob,
Big cigar, German car,
Met her in a lap dance bar.

Boss suit, sharp shooter,
He’s very good with computers,
High flyer, silk tie,
Dumped her in a lay-by.

Lawn mow, floor show,
Love bite, bright lights,
Sales charts, filthy tarts,
Early starts, body parts.

Clean shave, please behave,
Desk slave, shallow grave,
Pick her up, put her down,
Leave her where she won’t be found.

Meeting, greeting,
Press flesh, fleeting,
Touch base, briefcase,
Always keep the knicker lace.

And a shocked neighbour will say,
“It’s always the quiet ones…”


The look in your eye, tells me you’re keen,
I’m all coy smiles, though I know that you’ve seen.
Another caress, and I couldn’t care less,
If you’re sweet talking me just to get me undressed.

Small talk and laughter, but not like with him,
But it’s nice that you’re here, to buy me more gin,
A proper date? Oh. Tomorrow night?
Let’s just be mates eh? My head’s not right.

You laugh like him, but you’re not as funny,
And yes you’re sweet, but you’re not my honey.
But you eased my heart, now that he’s gone,
And played your part, and helped me move on.

So keep chatting and charming, trying your luck,
Go on, just ask, give your courage a pluck.
You’re not the one, you’re not Mr Right,
But let’s have some fun, ‘cos you’re Mr Tonight.

Been lovely to meet you, you’ve made me feel good,
Seems I can sparkle, I’d forgotten I could.
My smile is back and my sorrow is drowned,
Let’s go back to yours, I’m on the rebound.

Dios Dame La Fuerza

It’s true there is a battle,
But I shall not yet bear arms,
Instead I aim to win you,
With a quiet war of charms.

She knows not of her opponent,
Or even of the threat,
And the amor in my armoury,
Is not collected yet.

But the tools at her disposal,
Are more deadly than a blade.
For my foe has you already,
And she thinks her bed is made.

The battle ground’s uneven,
The odds are in her favour,
She’ll need every scrap of fight,
And all the might God gave her.

For I shall not stop in this life,
Nor even in the others,
And I call to all the Goddesses,
The Gods and all their Mothers.

The ones who know what’s right,
And who I should belong to,
The saviours of my heart,
Who know how much I want you.

I have faith in all their powers,
Even though I am a sinner,
Love, I will have the victory,
But you will be the winner.


Apart from gin and cake and being a girl,
There are two more great loves in my World.
One is music, oh how I need it,
The other’s you, you fecking eejit.

But, because I have a silly old brain,
It’s all mixed up, it’s one and the same.

I hear songs that make me need you,
And I wonder how long until I next see you.
And I dream of how wonderful life could be,
If you were here, alone with me.

But then there’s music that makes me dance,
And I wish you were here, to pull at my pants.

There’s music that makes me feel like dying,
And songs that make me end up crying,
And the ones that make me grin with glee
And hug myself like I’ve just dropped ‘E’…

But for every song I love and I play
Each chorus, each album, each hour, each day
Is time that I’m spending, not in your arms,
But with sonnets to music, and pop culture psalms

And sometimes those songs are angry and cruel
And remind me you’re gone, and that I’m a fool
But if the band on the radio, mean what they say,
Then love conquers all, and you’ll be with me one day.


I have a love of writing
With pen and ink and pad.
Sometimes I think that stationery’s
The greatest friend I had.

To tap upon a keyboard
Is fine and fast and free,
But it’ll never quite be ‘writing’
Least it never will to me.

To scribble, cross-out, alter,
Embellish, doodle, draw,
Jot it fast or write it neat,
Or keep on adding more.

I DO have lovely writing
Even when I’m in a rush,
And I’m hardly ever happy
Without a pen to push.

This Time.

I left my joie de vivre down by the Mersey,
The sun shone and the wind whipped and I knew.
I didn’t look back to see if she had found it,
I left it on the riverside with you.

This city’s broken hearts for generations,
Through famine, music, slavery and love.
But still she never fails to show her beauty,
As she takes your trembling hand inside her glove.

When she takes your joy to add to all others,
You don’t feel it till you’re back amongst your own.
You still live in the town that you were born in,
But somehow you can never call it home.

My soul lies still along the Mersey,
It’s up there with my heart and joie de vivre,
And everytime I go back there to find them,
I swear that this time…
This time…
I’ll never leave.