Silly Poem – Winter’s Approach

October cold nips at thighs and calves. I wrap them, tuck them in, try to be at one with the shape of my chair. It’s a swivel chair. Once shaped, will I be able to twist, turn and spin into takeoff? And, once airborne, will I be able to land? Or, will that be me…

Salt Waves

‘East Hill, Sudbury’ by Jay Cool [Inspired by a walk up East Hill, in inland Sudbury, after partaking of an excellent brew in Prado Lounge.] Dirty docks, seagulls and chips, fishing nets, trawlers and tankers, drunken sailors and fishermen leering and lurching at ladies, whilst lurking in bars with their pints. Beaches of pebbles, jarring…