Long Lincolnshire Poems

Only bold , italics , 

The stench of power

  There’s a common smell of bull*****been spreading through this land 
Blair and Brown once had the power to spend spend spend out of hand
The banks...

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An English Life

It is midnight the Milk train pulls into darnall station
No ordinary passengers here
Steelworkers with their families
Loaded with fishing tackle, sandwiches and maggots
The Fossdyke in Lincolnshire, their destination
The fare Half a crown for happiness

The...

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A Lincolnshire lass was she
        in youth and bloom revealing,
and upon us all God smiled
when unto this world a child
       was born...

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Wow a party having a discourse. Now that's a very proud time isn't it? When passing a glass don't wave at a passing wavelength as hair can often disguise a taste. So be careful on...

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Smead Say, the sinister ugly buggy cook covertly took action
Driving the wandering geek man into her neon computer screen
He smashed his head a bit on the edge, which gave her satisfaction.
She was a gargoyle woman,...

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~~~~~~~~

climate change... killing
spring bees...  spiders  many flies
early nesters starve

once joy the seasons...
the charm of springs overture...
winter defies it...

today... house  sparrows
 seen nesting... nature wishes...
hopeful they succeed...

grass... verdant... growing...
hedgerows holding back... afraid...
full spring...

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Hollie was born with no right forearm, 
In Lincolnshire on June 26th in 1994, 
But now resides in Wales, Hengoed, 
To train at Cardiff Metropolitan Uni. 

The F46 javelin category suits her, 
And she discovered...

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Quincerra queen of the white horse had a full load today
But she made an exception when she heard of the lost foal.
She said, I can easily tackle my list of have-to-dos another day.
For being the...

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Oh listen helots while my words be bold
To gather fire that fills our spirits mold
So brimstone melds the brick and mortar wold
We face death to defend these walls of old

Our wars be borne for mothers...

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Matlock the hare has a good life
He is alone now, he has lost his wife.
But his offspring are near, visiting each day.
He loves his evenings, when they are far away.

Matlock loves to sit in front...

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A cummerbund of peach and tangerine
below Persian blue sky now washes pale,
Marsh Harriers and Starlings call, unseen,
competing in bizarre chromatic scales.
Sewn onto the horizon in a hem,
like cardboard cut-outs on a puppet's stage,
black silhouettes of...

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Ghoul exploded from his coffin with an enormous boom.
Two virtual students caught the sight on Zoom.
It was weird that this knave escaped his dank grave.
Dead in a cave, but now an internet fave.

But who would...

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