Category Archives: Poems

Old Books

In the case of books
Shiniest of looks
Is a mark of shame.
For scruffiest and dusty
Marks love so feisty
It promises the fame.

Old books
With half their looks
Loved with light touch
That grannies remember
Children taught to hold them so tender
They are loved too much.


Second for Creative Writing Group. Inspiration came from The Little Bookroom by Eleanor Farjeon, a collection of very different sort of fairy tales that taught me to go walking bare feet if I can, read with passion and dream whenever the opportunity strikes. It’s the last one. I need to concentrate on continuing my Nano now.


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It was hot the other day

It was hot in Sicily
the other day.
In June 1963.
No shirt kind of day.

I washed away some dishes,
Greco’s words from radio
Echoing in head.

Praying, you’d call me.

Perhaps you thought you’re smart.
But an idiot,
as far as I was concerned.
For only fool won’t call
And let me know.

You were ok
the other day


Creative Writing Group home task. Based on First Sicilian Mafia War in June 1963.

I don’t usually write poems. Ever.  But it’s the home task, so one can at least give it a try, can’t we?

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