The sun is low, catching the road just so To etch in ebony and gold the slow, Falling leaves and crooked, dripping branches. The hills,...

The boats don't come and the river shrinks. The seaweed and barnacles crack, Bleached on the feet of the jetty. And the gentle rain falls...

Abandoning my life Unfeeling in my flight I ran away from love And you I reveled in the new Remade myself anew Thought I was not alike...

Small, too small, too too new still. Cells still weird, still volatile. I stroke his head and lie, and smile. Doctors mumble, numbering...

Let's get this straight. I don't mean to berate or to get you irate when I state - greatness Breaks from your face like a sun done...

I wrap my pain about me like a shield, A shield repulsing friend and foe alike, Safety from the stain of needing succour, The corporal...

Ranges of vertiginous mountains Banked in serried steps, loom close, Held from smashing down the slopes By a line of credible wooded...

Emerging from a dream of France The miles still present in my legs and arms But dimly, like another's pain, it seems I am betwixt, stuck,...

The darkness of tree shade, cooling summer wheat The darkness of forests, lovely, still and deep The darkness of a raven, on blue a void...

Will this sodding incline never end? Each pseudo-summit rises round the bend. Flats false as politicians promise rest, Yet burning lungs...

The sun shines, and there's a cooling breeze. Spring spatters hedgerows with colour and life. My heart beats in a hustling trio with...

Pots are hidden all around, If you can see to find them. In plain sight or in the ground They cradle goods of priceless worth To treasure...

Carol Anne Duffy Is not at all huffy Although if I met her I'd prob'ly come over all lovey Like with Phillip Pullman When at the...

I cannot find the worms.

A man. Looking. At a woman. There's the woman. There's the man. There's a look. Peripheral second sight, senses A line, a light, or a...

They whip and dive and bite Like gnats. No weight, but flap Like bats in panicked flight. Ethereal, of nil, they fill Each inch of land...

The poem writes itself Fragments, snatched Clotting, dividing, conjoining Tripping over crippling timidity Two themes blindly fumbling...

She nestles In her threadbare gown In a greasy-armed chair Carpet swirly-smelly On a wet dark winter's night. He sits Astride a...