Beach Boy

Flint soaking up some rays along the East Lothian coast line. Don't be fooled by that innocent glint in his eyes; he is on the lead for a reason: he can't be trusted around the nesting skylarks in the sand dunes!

Weed Dance (neck in time)

2 grebes meet on a pool-top, ~ Ruffs draped, crests as spiked as the end of Dick Van Dyke’s routine brush ~ But 1 makes less of a "step" and more of a ~ Stoop, sweeping ribbons from the water's bed ~ a ceremonial weed, shaken alive, ~ freeing beads that rain like sparks, wheeling... Continue Reading →


Adder coils up tight ~in the morning thaw, ~her spangled train helter skeltering down ~and tangled in stories spun of age: ~ Is there anywhere safe for a snake, who's ~Scorned as Eden's "honey-trap"? ~Tossed like cauldron fodder in to a witches' bake? ~And chased off cliffs by a so called Saint?!!! ~ No wonder... Continue Reading →

Hunter’s Teeth

The hunter’s teeth are ivory sawsThat hack through bone and sever fleshThe hunter’s teeth are snarling eyesThat slice the mesh of nervous headsBut hunter knows thatteeth can turnburrow through its own mind’s fleshsometimes hunter hunts itselfLike teeth that eat through sleep


Sometimes symbols ~ can make the sky seem pitiful ~ and answerable to the burn of a wish ~ Like the lovers ascending the village steps, who see ~ A stork land on their church’s stack ~ piecing a nest with ~ The cross at its head Its back to the growing, ripening moon.


All trees tickle at the tap, the drum of ~ the woodpecker’s peck, the quick-side splitter!  ~ A willow wriggles when probed by its tongue which ~ bends for bugs' legs ~ that itch as they scatter ~ A birch tree bellows as pin striped feathers ~ brush in the belly-button hollow, heaving the ribs... Continue Reading →

Lizard Throne

On the top of lava stone ~ Lava lizard flicks to show ~ A spangled jerkin ~ Fire throat ~ Poised to take the lizard throne

Fear Plays

Leap impala leap ~ as your belly flutters ~ at the slightest quiver of dust ~ Or hair raising rustle ~ Listen impala, hear ~ that detuned muscle ~ that plays in your core. ~ Till strings give ~ Springing you up and ~ Over ~ Clearing the coil of the road and ~ Away... Continue Reading →

Decadence Duck

I only came to feed the mallards ~ on the murky autumn pond ~ to hear the vested rooks in sermon ~ in the lick of rain drops’ tongues ~ But wait. ~ Who’s that gentleman gliding? Its feathers ~ Blushing, flashing Venetian ~ Pomp, a damson wig that ~ hangs, thick and plump ~... Continue Reading →

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