A song I wrote for Nina's birthday she's lock down with covid and the kids a soft swing song to say we all do love you take care xx All rights reserved.

When you're a teenager there's always one out of your crew who takes too much powder and drinks far too much brew we use to call him the Glastonbury gladiator , funny but with them having so much testosterone and adrenaline they also make brilliant parents when they've finished with there thirty year teenage rampage .

A poem I wrote to commemorate the courage of Christine the first transexual beauty queen who back in 1953 decided bravely to have her gender reassigned to its rightful sexuallity in order that she may be set free from the burden of having to live with her very unwanted masculinity, but it would be a long haul from the first roll of that snowball before the gay community finally made they're stand for equality at the Inn we now know as stonewall.

The green eyed monster of sin that secret schadenfreude which we keep hidden away so deep within usually it's only seen in children as their rival for survival and parental attention the lowly leftover instinct of our anthropic ascension , however this terrible traits can also be witnessed later in our lives when when the male begins to assert it's dominance as the procreation stage arrives .

A prick of our precious pride is all that's needed to derail and deride our sensibility into taking a walk back to its wild side.

A musing written for lily age 9 and her cat Sean who's got terribly fat of late getting himself stuck in his own cat flap due to having been neutered and putting on rather a bit too much timber . A new front door was also fitted without taking his correct cross whiskered measurements . Narrated in a Yorkshire accent due to Sean being born and raised in Harrogate .

Another crazy  sketch about the life of Thornton Harding the junior an aristocrat who's mad about his pets , he calls them by the strangest names, such as his dog , Greyfriars Warton Benson who i might add is allowed to do anything including sitting in his master's lap and driving his car.

A poem written for a sibling son whose quest for frolic and fun wedge hatred in-between his brothers love by what he'd gone and done , it's difficult to understand the parable of the prodigal son especially if you're looking through the eyes of the other hard working one who through restraint and strive hath managed with diligent life toiled and tilled the farm in order to fill empty bellies and winter barn now back without a crumb returns the squandering sibling pun doubtless to take the family fortune for yet another hit an run better remember this of the prodigal son who fritted away everything from dad and mum let him now work to the rise and fall of a burning sun whilst you yourself seek out some frolic an fun

What was once a stamp for the tramp or cut of a criminal class its now adorning faces and physique of aristocrat royalty and even the supermodel chic .

Hidden in her silver box were those secret letters of love from a dead lover who in a moment of war when passion was the fashion and she fed hers red and raw to his hungry dog of amour .