Why read this? Well, this blog covers a lot of ground. There’s
humour, love poems, introspective drivel, some Shakespearian
parrots thrown in for good measure, ghosts, and oh, did I mention
the original, off beat stuff too, such as alpine sheep smoking grass
(not the narcotic kind, but erm actual grass) and the musings of
bathroom plugholes? I have now.
Briefly, I’m 43, and live in a little town called Stafford in the UK,
not too far from Dr Johnson’s birthpace and Cannock Chase
which is a forest where Henry VIII used to hunt for deer,
hence locally known as “The Chase’. Or as the deer named the place
“Hide!!!” A concept they adhere to even to this day.
I’ve written on & off for about seven years, mostly off until
earlier this year (2008).
You may look at this site and think that there’s quite a few poems here,
and there are retrospectively, but in reality, most were written some
six years ago and I haven’t written anywhere near as frequently since.
Only a handful have been scrawled on paper this year, with a gaps of
many years inbetween.
This poem blog is dedicated to all those I’ve known, who’ve been
there, come and gone, and have yet to be found, and that pretty
much covers everyone. Oh, and the kitchen sink. It’s always been
good to me.
Thanks for taking the time to drop by, and if you like anything, take a
few secs and leave a comment. It’s always good to know someone’s
out there! And that means you, Mrs Berg.
“If you’re going to brood, why not try your hand at some poetry?”
Some pictures of Cannock Chase