Frankly it's a miracle I can write. Born dyslexic I had to be a dunce at school, and I was. Persistence, and a little voice within told me I could learn just as well at the school of hard knocks, and I did.
What you'll read in my writing is a gaggle of experiences, love, lust, hurt and pain. My loathing of war, especially the miserable bastards who promote and profit by it.
Also a life-long support for the not so fortunate with whom I relate. If you find a spelling mistake or two, that's the way flip flops.
'I think that I shall never see a poem lovely as a tree'
A single leaf makes its own history.
Attached to the bough from which it
sprung it is a perfect entity.
As part of the whole a resting-place for birds,
and a refuge for life-forms that we cannot see.
It welcomes the seasons, and greets each day
with an open face.
Throughout it's life it made no enemy, yet,
men come with chainsaws to fell the parent tree.