A hot May evening
When I got back
Exhausted by the ride
The beautiful little maple tree
Slightly to the side
Of my garden where I saw
A girl upon a swing
Gently contemplating
How clearly it did bring
To her
As it happened the tree
Had been trimmed today
A beautiful ball of crimson
A really sweet display
And seeing a lass a swinging
Reminded me once I
Swung upon a garden swing
But now old couldn’t try
It kind of reminded me
When I was younger
Surprised I was to see
Annabelle enjoying the peace
And calm, amazingly

Took me back to a time
A long long time before
It just felt like yesterday
To me, yes I was sure
A glorious little Maple
Leaves of every hue
Orange red and crimson
Bountiful a view
Almost from a story book
From many years before
I got in and I fell asleep
Very very sure

I had reached a new dimension
Seventy years perhaps
That period came back to me
Many many gaps
Swinging in a neighbours garden
On some other tree
Kicking my legs out an sailing
Pretending I was free

Then seeing little Annabelle
Brought that moment I
Had been gently swinging
Trying to touch the sky
Letting go and flying
Up into the air
Touching the clouds
The beautiful clouds
And just being aware

Thank you Annabelle

Posted in Activism in art, Berkhamsted, Breathing in colour, children and their plight in a adult world, Coutryside meanderings | Leave a comment

Donkey time at Folly’s

Collectively the girls
Are clearly as happy as can be
Out in the lovely sunshine
At Folly’s Farm
So free
to wander really aimlessly
In the sunny shine
Genuine friends together
Where clearly all is fine
The grass the hay the local herbs
Beautiful light around
They really do feel happy
On their cherished ground

Posted in Donkeys and working animals | Leave a comment


Be inspired by Nature
The solace of it all
The mountains and the filtered air
Through Summer into Fall
The colours are exciting
I soulfully desire
What is indeed creation
My ultimate desire

Posted in Countryside wisdom, Coutryside meanderings, energy(developing new ideas), Environmental Poems, Ethereal Poems, Explorers and Visionaries, Forests and wild places, Freedom and what's happening to it, mountains, Secrets within us, Skyscapes, Sunshine and wintry Splendour, Taiwan catching rare sharks, Travel, Wildness is our friend | Leave a comment

Donkeys and the sun

Feeling the sun
On our body today
Enlightens our spirit
We just want to play
With the sun beams
The comfort a donkey can feel
At Folly’s it’s lovely
We just feel so real

Posted in Donkeys and working animals | Leave a comment

Frog hoppers

Sadly lots of gardens
Allowing debris to
Build up over seasons
Attracts the beasties who
Create a form of spital
They are tan or black
And they
Have bright red eyes
Like tiny monsters
On a sunny day

They flourish on the lavender
The spital forms you’ll see
Underneath the stems alas
Sticking there, a key
To spital bugs
Weakening the plants
Where on they lie
Creating XYLELLA
Before it’s seems they die

In September and in October
Females come back again
We need to make up a toxic
So they feel the added pain
And don’t come back not ever
Leave your plants alone
Froghoppers are show stoppers
And are Not washed off by rain.


Posted in Abandonment, Garlic, Hygiene | Leave a comment


An artistically talented
Engagingly brilliant
In so many ways
Singing his stories of
So much much affection
Ancient and modern
He magically pays
Glastonbury’s piper
Giving and showing
Mystical prowess
Bless him his sowing
Of seeds of tradition
Every rendition
A man on a mission
A friend every song
A tale of hope of unrelenting
In everyone’s heart
This man doth belong

Posted in Glastonbury where mystery and realiity meeton the crossroads of benevolence, Musical Bric-a-Brac | Leave a comment

Malaysian Tiger

A Malaysian Tiger
Lost to our world
Killed by a fast car
To heaven was hurled
Broken and busted
By unnerving steel
Murderous intent
It did reveal

So few around
It significantly
Walking alone
And sadly we see
Speed in attention and serious care
Stole the souls of the tiger
Releasing despair

Fewer and fewer
Now walk the wild ways
Too many humans drive fast
It plays on the mind of survivors
Seeing and hearing
The beautiful wizards
Clearly endearing

Laid out hearts stopped
By the vilest machine
Driving too fast
Acting real mean
Breaking the spirit of wildness and we
Hear the heart sapping breath lapping
End curiously
Sorrow fills hearts sorrow all see
A tiger lies broken
The world now can see
Broken and busted another soul gone
Driving too fast
Yea out upon
That long white highway
To the stars

Posted in A not my king story, Abandonment, activism, Tigers, Wildness is our friend | Leave a comment


Indonesian frogs
Just love their legs
But markets are mad
The buyers are dregs
Out of humanity
For what we see
Is frogs legs ripped skywards
And fried up for tea

The French seemingly like a spit of
Fried frog
carrefour are buying them
It’s a real slog
Pulling the legs of
Of sweet mama frogs
And humans then eating them
The travelogue witnesses evil
Seeing how sick
Frog legs on French toast
Watch them just lick
The crunchy the oily the salty
I say
This is not human
It’s monstrous

Posted in Abandonment, activism, animals used for food, frogs Legs | Leave a comment

Palm oil in any shape or formTogether with the so called sustainable version

The forest was alive
With sounds of screeching
The rain lashed through
The undergrowth of green
We sat up in the canopy
How on earth could man have been so mean
And daf’t enough to log the trees
As he had
Tear the heart out of our jungle free
Flood huge stretches
Rich in wondrous flora
And poison mountains streams so regularly.

Mother left us
It’s been just three days now
She was killed
And cut up on the track
Leading into Bally Mutra Village
Getting food for us
On her way back
A shot rang out
She watched us run for cover
Turned on the man
She saved us,she was brave
We got back safe though shaken
Somehow, she’d saved our bacon
But now our future prospects did
Feel grave.

We thought we should go back
To where she bought it
In the safety of the dark we’d see
Even take a gander at the village
That’s Jimbo
and my Sister Ram, and me
To the river, rolling on its journey to the sea
Trying to console ourselves
So tearful and dying just a little naturally.

We got into the village
To the trading posts that sells
Horn and fur and skin and things
And brass and bits of shells
Her hand, the hand of mother
This is the human way
Stuff it full of nonsense
And look the other way

Up upon the mantlepiece

To us it wasn’t fair
We grabbed hold of poor mothers hand
And legged it out of there
When mother died she saved us
And this her hand we found
A sick and awful ornament
To knock out for a pound

Sustainable palm oil those advocating it should be
Prevented we have enough palm oil Thank you and so few wild Orangs

Posted in A not my king story, Abandonment, Indigenous People | Leave a comment

Victims ( No thanks to Israel)

In the desert prison
A dungeon in fact
Chained to a bed
To this punitive treatment
In diapers they
It’s not medical treatment
It’s hell all the way

The scum of the earth
You have become
A Palestinian
Everywhere’s numb
Beaten and really
Violated you
Become wholly desensitised
That’s what they do

There is no caring
No sharing
No thought
Silence flat out on a bed
They have bought
Your sinner soul
A prisoner you
Born to be tortured
That is the view

In the Negev prison camps
Madness descends
You are unable to speaks
You have no friends
Labelled as combatants
Your only role
Shut up be quiet
As they play with your soul

Posted in A not my king story, Abandonment, activism, Captivity, Criminality, Death and Dying, Duty of care was never there, Egypt, Emotional Poems, Famine, Genocide, Humanity, Humanity is a shithouse, Israel, Medical, Nut jobs, Palestine, Red and fallow deers trophies, relationships and breakdown, Sadism, Settlers and colonisation, SLAVERY, Starvation and the Poor, The greatest disease of all arrogance coupled with the ignorance of life, The Middle East, Topical News Stories II, Torture, War crimes, war zones, Wars, zionists | Leave a comment

Wild foxes

Hundreds of descriptive odes come to mind
Of the wise wily fellow
Who does purposefully dine
In a covey of hens
In a ramshackle coop
Clucking for England
Making sense as they troop
Seemingly actively chatting away
The barbed wire
Was broken
It had been they say
Giving the red soul
A way in and out
The finest of fellows
Without a doubt

Posted in Activism in art, Ashridge, Berkhamsted, Clouds, Countryside wisdom, Coutryside meanderings, Forests and wild places, Fox Hunting, foxes, Freedom and what's happening to it, Fun in the park, furs and the fur industry, Gamekeeping, magick | Leave a comment


A heartbeat away
From the red breasted two
A delightful personage
Their joy comes through
Able to create
In the heart and the soul
A perfect magnificence
And such control
Inquisitive friends
Consumers with sight
On the meal worms on offer
And the sweet morning light

Posted in Activism in art, birds and the environment, Sisterly love against all the odds, Twitter, wild birds | Leave a comment

More live exports where most arrive dead to the world

Solid bars encrusted holds
Inside ships we see
Torture vile disastrous passage
Animals Scott free
Not f enough food
Slops everywhere
Water dirty it is what
The Meat Trade and it’s people
A constancy of real despair
And the British Public unaware

Posted in A not my king story, Abandonment, Animal Rights, animals used for food, CAFO's and factory farms, Calves and Cows and Bulls, Campanology stories, Captivity, children and their plight in a adult world, Death and Dying, Environmental Poems, Food, Food Processing, Humanity is a shithouse, live exports, Milk and its associated problems | Leave a comment

Ostriches feel the pain as I do I don’t know about you

Fashion dare we use that word
On a beautiful amazing bird
Humans ripping feathers clear
Bloodied ends and all that fear
For someone’s hat for someone dress
Evil ugly full of stress
Ostrich feathers ostrich pain
Ugly humans

Posted in Abandonment, activism, Dumbed down and ghoulish, Duty of care was never there, Fashion and animals, Feelings, OSTRICH and the Western Cape | Leave a comment

War in Gaza

Stuff is going on out there
And lits we do not know
The Hammas are in their tunnels
Like jack rats as we know
Ordinanace a plenty
Firing it at will
Taking out the enemy
So much blood they spill

Lies and propaganda
Israel’s good at that
So many would be fighters
Know where it is at
Families being slaughtered
Creates the volunteers
And the IDF are getting stick
And extra rounds of tears

We see it despite the bombing
Traps are being laid
The IDF aware getting hit
There is a raid after raid
Taking out the soldiers
The lies too many, we
Hear upon the media
But really honestly

It’s hell on earth
For the IDF a despite the American aid
The iron dome and the bloody bombs
There is raid after raid
Hitting the Israelies
Combatants on fire
Seven months of mayhem
On the ground it’s really dire


Posted in activism, Israel, Palestine, Politics, Tent cities, Topical News Stories II, War crimes, war zones, Wars, zionists | Leave a comment

Shit in our water

So much shit about these days
Rivers seas and streams
Water companies dumping crap
Fucking up our dreams
Englands greenest aura
The chalk streams
Fresh with trout
Swimming if their lucky
Before they just drop out

Water cress for dinner
River fish for tea
Full of bloody sewerage
Try and pot of tea
Pubs be side the old canal
Take a swim or two
Dive into the murky water
What it’ll do for uou

Is fill your guts with god knows what
Sewerage on the rocks
The environmental agency
Filtered through your socks.
All the fish are upside down the ducks are dying too
The water rates are really high

Posted in A not my king story, Abandonment, activism, Water and chemicalisation of it | Leave a comment

Malaysia tells Israel

Shredding the UN charter
Malaysia made it clear
Genocide being denied
But there is so much fear
Rafah getting hammered
Children sadly they
Eating pet foods if they are lucky
Whilst Israel gets away
With all these rotten bombings.
upset through and through
Forcing families to run and hide
That’s what IsraeLi’s do
They tell the folk to go one way
Bomb them if they do
Women and children are getting short shrift
That appears the view.

Posted in A not my king story, Abandonment, activism, Death and Dying, Duty of care was never there, Genocide, Humanity is a shithouse, Indigenous People, Malaysia and its People, Malaysia more especially Melaka, Palestine, Starvation and the Poor, War crimes, war zones, Wars | Leave a comment


A magical vista
A colourful source
The heavens had opened
Extraordinary force
A rainbow of particles
Unlike before
The levels imposing
The great wondrous TOR

Posted in Glastonbury where mystery and realiity meeton the crossroads of benevolence | Leave a comment


The brainwashed youth
Of the IDF
Get their fighting orders
Though most are deaf
From the shells exploding
And the rockets firing
And the rubble falling
Fore heads perspiring

Down in the tunnels
With rats the size
Of chickens honest
None are wise
To the Hamas fighters
Drenched in sweat
Reading to take out
The Israeli debt

Lots of lies about
Rape and more
About decapitation
And yes more war
Fearing and shivering knife wounds deep
Thrust into children
Whilst they sleep

Lies and more lies
It’s on TV
On the internet
1. 2. 3
Vivid scenes
Blood and snot
Bulldoze the cemeteries
They do that a lot

Often women
Other men’s wives
Bombed to pieces
No one survives
The vile the evil the ugly sin
Brainwashed youth
Were born to win

Posted in A not my king story, Abandonment, activism, Genocide, Israel, Palestine, War crimes, war zones | Leave a comment

Push the button

Over Rafah
What do we do
Just push the buttons
Imagine the view
2000 pound bombs
Dropping away
Onto the tent cities
Canvas display

Thousands of families
Sat or asleep
Thousands of children many will weep
Many old people too crippled to walk
Will be blown into pieces
Before they can talk

Buildings to rubble to dust
The Israeli bombardment
Comes via the air
American weaponry
Guarantee fate
Quietly a falling
At an alarming rate

Gaza is weeping
The people are too
Running away
It’s what people do
The Israelies told them
Get out of town
Don’t fucking mess
In fire you will drown

Genocide Israel
Ridden with grief
After the Hamas
Thats the belief
Evil and dark
As the mystery sky
As the rats in the tunnels
Mysteriously die

Biden is ancient
His head in the cloud walks like an arse
But still remains proud
Of the weaponry sent
To Israel to kill
Palestinian children
And their precious blood spill.

Posted in A not my king story, Abandonment, activism, Genocide, Indigenous People, Israel, Palestine, War crimes, war zones, Wars | Leave a comment


I find it hard to not wake up
In tears
Israel’s nightlbraids we know
Sending bombs to Rafah
Sharing out its Hell
Murdering the babies the mothers
And them all
Genocidal maniacs
Answering the call

My eyes are sore the saltiness
The evil of those who
Give them bombs and fighter planes
That is what they do
To go and bomb the tented places
With incendiary
Which has an awful evil
Of the worst degree

Vile and threatening ugliness
Savagely they kill
Women and children, mothers, grand mothers
All their blood they spill
Zionistic murderers
Devils at their core
All they want is everything
All they want is war

Murdering the children
Disgracefully they turn
Every bloody light off
Then they set to burn
The tents an all the children
Blistering in the heat
Netanyahu and his bandits
Trying to compete

Thank goodness Iraq fighters
Are sending rockets too
Bash those bloody F16’s
All of them given to
The Israeli raiders
And why not anyway
Life is full of evil
They must be made to pay

Burning canvas crackling bodies
Little children black and blue
Mothers dragging rusty prams
Their tiny babies gone it’s true
Explosive forces water sources
Switched off aid cannot get through
Whilst the Israelies sup their mocha
In the clubs and try to woo

Yet more foreign politicians
To be friends to come and see
Come and meet the youth of Tel Aviv
And realise and be
Part of the great fight for freedom
Give us more so we can kill
mutilate and murder children
YES. Future hamas blood let’s spill

Every night ai go to bed
Tearful saltiness now sore
Whilst I dream it doth seem
Israel bombs and makes its war
Felt on children blackened bodies
Burned to cinders in their bed
Innocence is swapped for evil
The morning brings the many dead


Posted in Abandonment, activism, Genocide, Humanity is a shithouse, Indigenous People, IRAQ, Israel, Palestine, Politics, War crimes, war zones | Leave a comment


The significance of turmoil
Each genocidal bash
A people being murdered
Treated just like trash
A right to defend themselves
Trotted out with glee
Bombing bashing brutally crashing
It’s true infamy

Children women lying under rubble
In the street
Homes blown skywards graves as well
This how they unseat
The people’s anguish ever growing
All of us we see
Ugliness and venom
Flowing tragically
The blood the snot the evil
We see it everywhere
So many friends of Israel
Bathe in the despair

A busted broken people
Told to run away
Hiding in the ruins eating garbage
Every day
Dragging themselves out of Rafah
As the brutes come into fight
Taking out the children
Sleeping in their beds at night

Selling arms to Israel
Giving them the thrust
Watching the blood dripping souls
Covered in the dust
Of hours of terrible bombing
The carnage of the soul
Israel must defend itself
It has to to control

Insolence and arrogance
And steely ugly sin
A concentration camp is peeled apart
It’s wearing thin
the people being massacred
Yes hung out to dry
Babies losing all their rights
To look into the sky.

Posted in Abandonment, activism, Death and Dying, Emotional Poems, Genocide, Indigenous People, Israel, Palestine, Politics, Topical News Stories II, War crimes, war zones | Leave a comment

My witch divine

If only I had been able
To give her all she needed
I did try
But I know I failed
That tragedy was mine
I loved her
How I loved her
She was just so beautiful
My wondrous witch divinity
Whose sun and moon
Did shine

The day I closed my eyes
For ever
Knowing I would never see
Her face. That face of beauty
Or hear her voice again
Centuries will pass me by
Tears will fill my every eye
She was my virgo goddess
And I loved her
Which is why

I wrote this little ditty
It has been a glorious pity
I passed and never saw her face
Or heard her dulcet voice
The little bird she wrote about
Always my favourite
I can say
I hope one day she is happier

Posted in Ethereal Poems | Leave a comment

So she is aware

We close our eyes
And say goodnight
A day will come
When we
Close our eyes
And never open them again
Or be
Seeing that sweet face you love
That someone,for whom you care
You should have told her
That you loved her
So so she was aware.

The finality of death
Upon us
She will never hear
Your voice again
Not ever
You are history

Cremated into ash and dust
And scattered to the sea
You loved her
That was obvious
An utter certainty

Posted in Love and respect | Leave a comment

Rose bay willow herb

A kind of pink wild rose
A flower of such esteem
A leaf resembling that of the bay
And the Willow it’s a dream
In many parts around the lay-by’s
And edges of the wood
This remarkably beautiful
Spiky soul
Does really all it should

With forget me knots and buttercups
Dandelions a garden wild
An edible medicinal liquor and pickle mild
Scores of them rise rapidly
Bee’s love them the sweet flowers
Waving in the early summer
With all their wondrous powers
Ivan Chai a herbal tea
A pickle from the stalk
A cleansing green so tasty
A bunch pulled on a walk

The hedgerows extra charming
As cover plants they show
Pollinating wisdom
Where ever the soulful go
They colonise a garden patch
Edible all through
Making exceptional salads
As Fire weed and they do

Arrive after a fire has dealt
It’s high octane burn
Bomb weed is it’s other name
In craters you might learn
Renewal of a destructive force
Such magick it performs
And a free and tasty salad
Adding flavour as it warms

An, ancestral pain killer
From the ashes it doth grow
Attracting favoured flavour
From the earth works down below
In many ways so special
Sweet cucumber pith as well
Inside the stem nutrition
It is indeed a spell

Some mint leaves plantain mallow
Dock leaf stalks cooked will
Bring a wholesome relish
And some umber spill
The vinegar of Dublin
With its “Mothers” intact
Through Spring until the Summer ends
Clearly flavour packed.

Posted in Countryside wisdom, Duty of care was always there | Leave a comment


The southern city of Rafah
Israeli’s patience failed
They first moved them there
And then despair
Netanyahu should be jailed
F16’s in fact bombing
Already new kids dead
Genocide and war crimes
If you are gone die
It all comes to a head.
Dear friends on that just rely.

Posted in A not my king story, Abandonment, activism, ARROGANCE AND DIEOFFS, Criminality, EMF and animals sensitivity to it (stories from around the world), Israel, Palestine | Leave a comment

Run away

It had been a hot day
A pertinent time
She had been feeling jittery
A lot, run and climb
Her folks were away
In the kennels was she
Lost in the moment
Wanting to free

Herself of the nerves
Of the pain, in her soul
No streets lights around
Unsure of her role
This black Labrador
As nervous as hell
Broke into the night
For to have a spell
Of freedom, of searching
Out in the field
She ran like the clappers
Trying to build
Some confidence up
It was dark, it was still
Hot in the moment
She gave into will

Not a glimmer of light
The sentinel trees
Seemingly darkening
Really a tease
Feeling alone in the heat of the night
The odd headlight beaming
Alone in her flight

A lost soul alone
A heart thumping tune
She ran and she ran
She would be somewhere soon
The owls hooting far off
The foxes that cry
A car took her out
And there she did lie

Lost to the world
A silence took hold
She recalled her guardians
Both in the fold
Of a Cypriot evening
Far far away
When this pale Angel came
And our eyes locked
The fey
Perhaps in her reckoning
Clearly I felt
Comforted by her
And how she had dealt

With my passing
She flagged down two gentleman from India, who
Both were exemplary
All three were true
It was happening in the clear darkness
I felt
Her heart softly caring
I truly was dealt

A wonderful hand
A spirited sigh
This lass she my saviour
Born from on high
A silence prevailed
As she softly exclaimed
her love and I felt it
Nobody blamed

Oblivion, softly cradled my soul
I was drifting and lifting
She knew her role
A beauty she took charge
She handled it all
I cried out to the heavens
And she broke my fall

Posted in Abandonment, Dogs, Driving, Duty of care was always there | Leave a comment

Thank you Kanga

A just reward
And a time of rest
For the Kangaroo
Who are the best
Leapers over earth and plain
Despite the shooters
The insane
A few hours training
Out at night
Shooting the females
It’s alright
Killing the joeys
It’s what they do
Sadness for the Kangaroo

Australian Carnivores
Red meat, they
Despite the high heat of each day
Indulge themselves in the wild roo
Steaks, pure fakes without a clue
Live exports, shooting
Heartless fools
The Kangaroos
They hear our calls
For our truest friends they be
That much
is true
Thanks for the wonderful Kangaroo

And Kanga too. Xxx

Posted in A not my king story, Abandonment, Aboriginies, activism, Australia and the epic journeys, Kangaroos | Leave a comment

The names right to oils not

Rape seed oil is not for me
Erucic Acid tragically
The cabbage family
Yes maybe
the golden fields
All growing free
It’s heavily processed
And inflammatory
Refined with hexane
So not for me

In Canada it’s canola oil
It cancelled LEAR
And seemingly
It’s everywhere
And farms do
Say it’s organic
How is that true

Highly processed
Omega three
Transformed to six
So Not for me
This golden seed
Called vegetable oil
No not for me

Posted in Environmental Poems, Genetics, Pesticides, Rape | Leave a comment

A pig on a farm

A pig on a farm
Knows only true harm
An attempt to accept
Forever they are swept
Into a maelstrom of bitter regard
Violence and unfairness
All Constantly scarred

Their habit and lifestyle
Finds arrogance they
Know ignorant violence
For there every way
Is broken and busted
Their physical worth
Wasted and stolen
From their place on earth

Nesting and birthing
And motherly care
Cleanliness knowing
Being aware
Loving each other
Respecting the cause
Imprisoned and tortured
In fact without pause

Given little care
Lovers of life
Their urge to be good
Made to feel dirty
Crated and seen
As victims
Intolerable and so obscene

The stench of the sty
The excrement bath
Farming for profit
The violence the wrath
The evil the ugliness
All of this vile
Humanity so called
We put them on trial

They have no sweat glands
So what do we do
Let them lay in the shit
We don’t have a clue
Chop of their tails
Chip their teeth
Let them feel
Prisoners disrespect
It is for real.

Posted in A not my king story, Abandonment, activism, Piglets suckling, Pigs | Leave a comment