Silver Street – for dVerse

You can spot the Silver Street kids at school –
they glimmer and dart, like fish in a pool –
and their mothers are slim, and their hair is pale,
and they whisper and sway, like trees in a gale,
and their fathers walk to a silent beat-
that’s the way that they roll, in Silver Street.

There isn’t much to see by day,
When the doors are shut, and the pavements are grey,
but lamplit stalls selling curious treats
come out at night, on Silver Street,
and a silver coin is what you must pay
for a bottle of dreams, or a charm to say,

And on moonlit nights, when the air is sweet,
there’s singing and dancing on Silver Street,
though sensible people stay away
when the Silver Street fiddles start to play,
for you never know just who you might meet
when the dancing starts on Silver Street –

For a Silver Street boy might tempt you to stay,
or a Silver Street girl might whisk you away,
so turn your back, and plant your feet
when the music starts up on Silver Street.

They shimmer and gleam, like fish in a pool –
you can spot the Silver Street kids at school.


I’m hosting at dVerse tonight – come and join us! We’re getting poetic about street names – the strange, the unusual, the quirkier the better. The dVerse bar is open for words, rhymes, rhythms and imagination. You’ll like it there. 


My humorous anecdote – for dVerse

We have a funny story
that we often try to tell,
so funny, when we start it,
we giggle for a spell

We can’t remember how it starts
or recall how it ends,
so perhaps we shouldn’t share it
with our dinner party friends

but it’s really so amusing,
it always makes us smile,
so we keep on trying to tell it,
and we struggle for a while –

we argue on location,
can’t recall the time of day,
but it was so hilarious,
we must tell you, we say,

about this thing that happened,
though we cannot say quite what,
a story with no ending,
no middle and no plot:

There were definitely two bottles,
or maybe six, or four,
and we know there were two men involved,
though maybe there were more,

it’s such a funny story,
and we really want to share,
but we can’t tell you how it began,
and maybe you had to be there;

but still, for us it’s easy
to make each other smile –
we just say “Gin and Limca”
and then giggle for a while.


I’m not very good at amusing anecdotes. I’m more of a witty comeback kind of gal. This is what happens when me and my husband try to tell our favourite funny story. This is for Mark Walters, who is guest hosting at dVerse tonight, and asks us to tell a true life funny story in verse. 

Brand new cities:

I   New York

In Tiffany’s, the diamonds glitter
like the Milky Way. In Macy’s
there’s a perfume counter selling
true love, so they say. On
Fifth Avenue, a yellow taxi’s
pulling in. The woman climbing out
has never had to worry
about payday. In Central Park,
a soldier puts his kit bag down
to start a conversation with a cat.

II   Dublin

In Brown Thomas, there’s a man
flicking through soft bright ties,
and thinking about shoulders,
white shoulders rising out of
creased, white linen sheets.
He’s got Italian silk socks
in English leather shoes,
and he’s going home tonight
to a woman he’s betrayed.
On Stephen’s Green, a girl is lying
in the grass, watching the clouds
drift by, and wondering
if she’ll always feel this way.

III   London

In Harrods’ food department
two women meet and chat.
“Cheerio!” they say, turning aside,
the thin one with a basket full
of cheese, and chocolate, and pate:
the plump one was just looking,
totally came here for the kicks;
and in Hyde Park, a woman pauses
to watch a squirrel skip
from tree to tree, tail swaying,
and wonders if she ought to
Instagram it, but she’s left it
all too late. The moment’s gone.

This is for Lillian at dVerse, who asks us to “noodle” with brand names. See how many you can spot! I liked this so much I couldn’t choose, so I’ve done three linked poems, one for each supermarket shelf – cereals, candy bars and perfume. I’ve copied the whole prompt below, for your delight and edification. I can usually summarise, but this one is long and complicated:

  • Include AT LEAST TWO of the brands listed IN YOUR CHOSEN CATEGORY, in the BODY of your poem.
  • Use the brand name’s words as words.
  • If one of the brand names you select has two words in it, try to use the two words in the same order as the brand does.

PLEASE NOTE : If you choose the Candy Bar category, do not write a poem about candy bars, including three of the candy bar names in your poem. Instead, use the words to refer to something other than a candy bar. Noodle with the words in the brand name! 

HINT: You may find the need to use a form of the word – as in “mounded” or “mounding” instead of “mounds”. BUT – a synonym for the word will not count. IE using the word “piles” instead of “mounds” will not fulfill the prompt.

Here’s the 3 Category lists (remember to choose only one category!)

Charleston Chew
Milky Way
Mr. Goodbar
Mars Bar
5th Avenue
Oh, Henry!
Pay Day
Baby Ruth
3 Musketeers

My Sin

White Shoulders
English Leather
White Linen
Red Door
Midnight Poison


Froot Loops
Apple Jacks
Fruity Pebbles
Lucky Charms
Cap’n Crunch
Special K
Cocoa Puffs
Harvest Crunch
Count Chocula
Frosted Flakes
Puffed Wheat


Blue – for dVerse Tuesday poetics

We came over the ridge
and paused for a moment –
the sea was impossibly blue,
and the sky was, too.

You took my hand.

It was hard to know
where one thing stopped
and the next began,
it was all just blue.

The kelp in the water moved
as if it was stirred by the wind,
and the grass moved around us,
caught in a current

and you took my hand.




I’m hosting at dVerse tonight, and I’m really excited to be sharing the art of Fay Collins with you tonight. This is the poem inspired by this picture. Please check out dVerse for more poems, and Fay’s site for more glorious paintings. floating seaweed

Small Journey


There were footprints in the snow,
some animal, out of necessity –
it must have been necessity, to
drag it out of some warm hole,
some place of comfort; warm fur;
warm breath from a mate, a cub, a kitten –

out of necessity, then, making
a hungry quest for something to take back
to that curled mate, that hungry child.

This was no pampered pet, not out here
in these quiet woods. A well fed cat
sits at the window on a day like this,
or ventures out across the lawn
and then heads home, to basket, fire, food;
and I don’t think a dog would walk
so cleanly through the snow. I’m thinking
fox, and half expecting blood, fur, feathers.

Our quest was just for beauty. That is all.
We came out here to see the light
dance on the snow, the shadows fall –
crisp, blue cut-outs – on the shimmering white.
We found it, and this little story.

Let’s go home.


This is for the dVerse prompt, where Mish offers us a beautiful selection of photographs by Sharon Knight at her website: This image is called Small Journey.

Grace days

These are our grace days,
unpaid for, uncosted,
slipping by unnoticed…

days when the world shrinks
to this warm space, this
soft blanket…

days that are wrapped in snow,
or chanced upon, days that fall
as gifts into our laps…

days uncounted, secret days,
days that slip by like swans
silently moving down a river.



For Paul, at dVerse, who asks us to consider “grace”. Or possibly “Grace”…


These visits stretch me out, thin as skin,

and numb me like scar tissue.

These visits smell of fear, and grief,

and there is anxiety pooled

in these uncomfortable seats.

I curl up in my own head,

and let my body float beneath me,

accept touch, pressure,

kindness. I move as instructed,

let myself be heavy.

We are old hands here.


This is for dVerse, where Lillian asks us to think about visits.



Up and away – dVerse

Up and away
I want to fly away with you
Up and away
This world is dull, and tired, and grey
But with a bunch of bright balloons
We can take a rainbow honeymoon
Up and away

A rondelet. I don’t know what’s come over me. The image was found by Lillian over at dVerse. She found it on Pixabay, and is pondering graffiti art, as she plans what sounds like an amazing trip. It’s cold and dark and damp here, and I’m feeling a little bit jealous, so I’ve gone for something light and bright and fluffy to cheer myself up. My explanation is now far longer than my poem, so perhaps I should shut up!

Psycho – for dVerse

Come in, take a seat, observe my domain –
You can see I don’t do this for financial gain!
So why do I do it? The thrill of the power
I feel as I sit here for hour after hour…

Hey, right at the start I let her decide,
If she wants to commit, then she’s in for the ride,
And I’m always surprised when they say that they will –
Why do they do it? I guess it’s THEIR thrill.

I’m reeling her in now, taking it slow,
Step by step, feeling how far she will go –
If she’s silly enough to get caught in my net,
Then I’m sorry, my friend, she deserves all she gets,

Her parents are blind, they just do not see
Her boredom, depression, her teenage ennui,
And her friends let her down. But I’m always there –
And the comedy is, that she thinks that I care.

And you’d be surprised at the things that she’ll try,
Random instructions from some random guy,
Yeah, you’ll be surprised at the things that she’ll do,
The pain she will take if I’m telling her to:

If I tell her to cut, watch her pick up the knife,
If I tell her to jump, watch her offer her life,
And I feel like a god, as I sit in my room,
Fingers on keyboard, dictating her doom.


We were talking at work yesterday about a sick social media game that encourages young people to experiment with self harm and suicide. I’m not going to name it. If you’ve heard of it, you’ve heard of it. If you haven’t, it needs no publicity from me. Modern day evil for dVerse where we are asked to offer a dramatic monologue in the style of  The Laboratory by Robert Browning.