Monthly Archives: October 2014

A Tribute to Lewis Carroll (a poem)

There’s a very interesting event relating to Lewis Carroll near where I live that I can’t attend due to double booking.  Therefore, here’s a short verse in tribute to the great man.

Pi will have a last digit

A magnet’s like poles will attract each other

Politicians will stop lying

Celebrities will stop making gaffs

My life means nothing

I will fail at anything I attempt

You see?  I too can think up six impossible things before breakfast.


The Not-So-Great Debate (a short poem)

This is what you might call an “instant poem” that I wrote at a poetry session.

Tom said to Steve,

“I reckon Britain should ban the burka.”

Steve said to Tom,

“No problem mate.

If you succeed, I’ll just have fish and chips instead.”

Song of the Sorceress (a poem)

A poem I wrote, partly inspired by my trip to Stratford Upon Avon and thinking of Macbeth’s witches sitting round their cauldron.  By contrast though, this sorceress is resolutely good, for she is brewing a potion to drive evil away.

Now discord creeps into the land

The time for action is at hand.

For all the people kind and true,

I shall concoct a magic brew.

One drop of this and in a blink,

The realm is rid of evil’s stink.

The cauldron’s hot, so in it goes!

I’ll boil it up, but hold your nose!

Put in three drops of the stink-fruit juice,

The week-old bile of a barnacle goose,

The ground-up root of some upas trees,

A mix of mugwort and sun-dried fleas,

A peacock’s tongue and locusts three,

A jellyfish from the farthest sea,

Ten types of fungus from forest deep,

Then fifteen worms that slither and creep,

A bottle full of slugs in brine,

A cup or two of rosehip wine,

A bowl of moths in turpentine,

Stir sixty times… it’s doing fine!

It’s nearly ready, so prepare!

Let demons linger if they dare!

What’s going to happen? I can’t tell.

But I’m sure this will give ‘em Hell!

Will they go poof, or be shrunk down?

Will they go shooting out of town?

Whatever happens, this foul potion

Will cause a wild and grand commotion.

Oh evil, run! Your days are through!

Your end has come with this vile brew!

So bubble cauldron, fire burn,

Let discord flee and peace return!

The City (a poem)

This little verse was written at a poetry event and inspired by a piece from a fellow member’s postcard collection.  Perhaps you’ll be able to guess which particular city inspired it.


High stands the city, grand and tall;

You crane your neck and feel so small.

Admirers come from near and far

To walk its streets, so angular.

Your wand’rings could be without end

‘Round roads no hill or stream can bend.

No treetops break the endless lines

Of flattened peaks and iron spines,

And no dun trunk is spied between

Stone’s grey visage or glass’s sheen.

The traffic ’round you streams and roars

While you wait safely on its shores.

Indifferent faces hurry by,

Oblivious to you or I,

And in this world, your thoughts will stray.

Earth’s fields and forests fade away

And gradually you come to see

You love this measured symmetry.

You realise you are now more fond

Of this world than the world beyond.

Far more than just a town, you find

The City… is a state of mind.