It could have been a glorious day, 

the weather man said it could be.

A mild and sunny September day, 

was so what I hoped I would see.

It could have been an Indian summer, 

it’s what the papers bragged about.

But I’m picking up my big umbrella, 

when I ever need to venture out.

It could have rained this morning, 

but it waited until I opened the door.

It should have been a glorious day, 

I can’t take this rain anymore.

But come later in the evening, 

the sun popped his head from the sky.

It brought me a little light relief, 

with a glorious and gentle goodbye.

The swans swam out to bask in it, 

leaving the family on the bank.

I suppose for that special moment, 

it’s the universe I’m needing to thank.



Daily Prompt – glorious 

The Sting

I just know that I’ve been bitten,

but it’s weird it doesn’t sting.

It does not come from an insect,

but it has got under my skin.

I’ve been bitten by inspiration,

now itching to move ahead.

I’m able to look more clearly

on things I used to dread.

I’m inspired to move forward,

blurred vision is clearing up.

I see myself fulfilled at last,

I sup from the happiness cup.

The bite was right and timely,

as it woke me from my sleep.

From a nest of the imagined,

that, I do not want to keep.






I’ve a penchant for a wine or two,

they call I wine o’clock.

But when the bottles opened,

I find it so hard to stop.

A penchant for a Spanish sausage,

but I don’t eat meat.

Can you really have a penchant,

for something you can’t eat.

I’ve a penchant for a fine car,

but mine is five years old.

A penchant to repeat again,

old stories that I’ve told.

I’ve a penchant for so many things,

I’m not sure they really count.

So let’s stick to my daily wine,

but forgetting the amount.




I wouldn’t say that I disobey,

but I don’t do what I’m told.

I do what feels right to me,

in some things I’m very bold.

I stand up for what I believe,

and yes, I do speak my mind.

Then there’s things I let go,

as I always try to be kind.

I’m not a little wooly sheep,

nor will I ever fit into a box.

I’ll turn up when I want to,

I’m not a lover of clocks.

I wouldn’t say that I disobey,

I don’t always do the expected.

The life I have is mine to live,

though I will stand corrected.



Sympathy and Empathy a Poem

In sympathy I’ll get you,

as I’ll understand and care.

With empathy I’ll feel you,

it’ll be just like I’m there.

In sympathy I’ll acknowledge,

all the hardship on you.

In empathy I’ll know you,

I’ll be standing in your shoes.

I might imagine how you feel,

or at least I’ll try to.

Or I’ll know so very well,

you see my love I’ve been you.

In sympathy I’ll understand,

I’ll try to be very caring.

But when applying empathy,

it’s a personal understanding.

In sympathy I’ll recognise,

both your suffering and pain.

In empathy I’ll feel you too,

for you see I’ll feel the same.



Sympathy for my Youth

It’s with greatest sympathy,

I say goodbye to my youth.

You see I’m gradually ageing,

I’m getting long in the tooth.

It’s not that I fear getting older,

I welcome it if you like.

I suppose I’m sort of retro now,

new can go take a hike.

No I don’t want to be young again,

I quite like being mature.

My death is still an age away,

I hope so but I’m not to sure.





Long Live the Peculiar

What is peculiar really, something odd, not in line with the norm, strange, different to what is expected anyway. I love difference, celebrate it and go out of my way to look for it in life.

Why do so many people want things to be just right, want today to run how yesterday did and the day before and last week. Why is it that people ask a question, knowing the answer, because saying something different will throw a cat among the pigeons for sure.

Think about it, somebody says ‘How are you’? and the automatic response is often ‘I’m fine’. I try to grab those words back as they leave my mouth but they are out before I know it, as I’ve been programmed like that. I’ve said it at the doctors in a consultation, I think it’s actually very stupid that they ask you how you are when you walk in the door and catch you out like that. After we’ve said fine, it’s so much harder to say how we are really, well just as a beside maybe, or just not say.

We are all peculiar, we are all different, not one of us looks the same but we try our damnedest to look like everyone else, to stand out in a crowd for some people is just peculiar, I say do it with gusto!

In the world of the ordinary everything is the same, bananas and tomatoes are the same size and talk is small. There is no talk of the curious or unexplained as it’s just weird and all the flowers in the garden are beautiful.

But look closer at nature and see nothing is the same, the oceans, mountains and each individual species, there are differences all over the place, huge differences and subtle differences but no two things are exactly the same. Even those things that come from the same mould are different in that they are placed in different spots, think about it.

I love being peculiar, a little different, outspoken and sometimes a little challenging. I always try to be kind, not because it’s expected but because it’s part of who I am, I want people to be happy and feel loved but I won’t say or do things I don’t mean.

For a large part of my life I tried to fit in, wanted to be like everyone else and didn’t want to be seen as different in any way. However, I always was really, the differences still showed, at work I rose quickly to senior management, I thought a bit different and spoke out. At home my tastes and decoration, an eclectic of all the things I love and my friendships can be described as a group of wonderful and different individuals who talk, think and explore. If you’re a friend and you’re reading this, yes you are special and different and it’s your difference I love, as quite honestly a lot of people bore me to death.

Long live the peculiar I say!