Well worn Blanket

Salford 16th May 2017


Back in Nineteen eighty two – i started taking this long woolly blanket to camp

Like many other scouts i stuck it at the end of my tents sleeping bag, and

As it got cold, i wrapped it round me to keep warm

Now, each camp i went to – i picked up a patch from the campsite – and these were

Kept on the woolly blanket…covering areas from Cumbria to Derbyshire – I

Even had a whole heap of locations such as

Torquay , paignton and brixham and these found a spare spot on my sleeping spot


Autumnal ?

Salford, 10th November 2016

The weather has taken a bit of a turn at Inkdrop House,


Believe it or Not, despite these dirty great grey clouds outside the window


There is however – a serious drop in temperature, which has led some in the house to crank up the central heating.

I could retreat to the warmth of my duvet – but I’ve got another shift at Imperial War Museum North to go to – a second layer is definitely required.

11.34 am – I think somebody upstairs heard me typing

(Amazing what a bit of Blue sky thinking will do eh?)




The change in the seasons

It leaves you cold

as you make your way

walking through the woods


First frosts paint delicate crystals

across fallen tree leaves

they crunch underfoot

as you make your way home


as jack frost paints

you pull at your coat

wrapping your scarf

tight round your throat


A noise in the distance

and heart goes a quiver

there’s no one around

and in fear you do shiver.


Jack Frost landed a wintery spell

hibernating animals – have a tale to tell.

Icy shapes fall through the air to the ground,

as crystals they break – without any sound


Temperature falls on the ground below,

turning the crystals to crisp white snow.

Covering ground, with white snow quite nice

which can be turned into blocks of clear cold ice


But most often than most – its used in a plan

by children in creating a great big snowman.

What’s truly agreed – whether young or old

the snow is a sign – It ain’t half cold!

Winters Grip

A Silver winning piece of poetry on winter from the pages of allpoetry.com

It starts when the last leaves
of Autumn are falling.
The Air gets colder
with Winter calling.

And Snow starts to fall, as ice starts to form
as weather gets colder than then when it was warm.
And Winter takes hold, as things start to freeze
as Mercury retreats from the cold in the breeze

And as Winter takes a Grip, of this quarter of year,
you’re torn as to whether to cry or to cheer.
As you play in the snow, in day and in night
as the retreating temperature, begins to bite.

The wildlife, they say, seem to know best
as many decide to take up a rest.
Storing a harvest, so they are well fed,
Waiting for Spring, to arise from their bed.

But kids enjoy playing building things in the Snow,
so out in the garden my Nephews will go,
Building a Snowman, wi me and my Dad,
Wrapped up real warmly – as this cold it is bad.


Painting delicate patterns on Car Windows
the ice maiden covers her canvas
keeping her art materials fresh
until the night falls
Her frosty hand freezes ponds
leaving local ducks
a chance to master skating
across the local waters
Lawns and reeds stand
in Military precision
Captured in time
by icy blasts
When her creations carefully form
the only critic of Miss Frost’s art
the early morning workforce
scraping away at windscreens
to get to work on time.

The Power of Touch

<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/the-power-of-touch/”>The Power of Touch</a>

It’s a powerful little thing that digit of yours.

As it touches the things around you, its little tiny nerve endings are sending messages to your brain

The soup is hot , the ice cream is cold and so on

But then there’s so much more

The feel of the bark of a growing tree, rugged and rough but occasionally smoothed by moss clinging to it

The Soft feel of a warm woollen jumper on a winter’s morn, telling you this will keep you cosy in the wind

The icy feel of fresh water – travelling down a stream, as it cascades over your hands and through your fingers

The warm feel of a mug of warm soup or Hot Cocoa, a perfect way to conquer those winter blues.

And then there’s its power to communicate

A Wave, a Point, A gesture – and that’s even before we discuss the arts of writing or drawing – they are skills that develop through life, but can be mastered in simple ways through paper, pencils and paint (and perhaps, with help from mum and dad – a potato)

When five digits work together its known as The hand wave.  Used as you spot a loved one at the station – saying “Hello, its great to see you”

The Pat on the Back – The Shake of the Hand – all signals to say to a friend “Well Done”

And then there’s the Hug – a big way for a little person to say ” I Love You, Mum and Dad”

And all the while it hasn’t said a word.

Even though its said thousands.

GMT (V.2)

The Clock is Ticking…

The summer is leaving, along with the tide

Wind changes course, as autumn arrives

Nights they seem Darker, as cold days draw near

The Moon, It shines brighter

as Midnight skies clear

The trees change their cover

as time changes course

and Mother nature paints leaves

red, brown and orange at source

as colours change scenery – and winter awaits

forest creatures prepare to hibernate

Autumn’s upon us – time has moved on

Winter is waiting – the Summer has gone

Capturing Time (v2)

The scholars say that

oil paintings are like windows

windows to the soul

So when the light dawned

something steely simply happened

on a happy monday

From the first moment

as shutter opened and closed

World and time just stopped

Moments Freeze on glass

On The first frame of cold film

the first bit of time

Was it an act of love my dear ?

or something much more dark

developed in a photo lab

you captured me – forever in time