I exchanged a 5 bedroom house for a 2 bedroom flat,

And there really is nothing wrong with that,

Except for the fact that I have gathered toot for years,

That now leaves me cold and frankly in tears,

Because I now have to learn the words “ditch” and “divest”,

Or “donate to charity” and ‘just dump the rest…”

In the meantime I’ve learned that my new bed fellow

Has to be a storage unit known as Big Yellow…

The name alone will fill me with dread,

Till my unit is empty, or else I am dead…

The Spiralizer’s a great piece of kit,

The minute you use it, you ask what you did without it,

If you are vegetarian, vegan or just love food in the raw

This little machine is worth fighting for.

It’ll chop a courgette into scrumptious spaghetti,

Or dice up a carrot into crunchy confetti.

Make a salad to die for from ribbons of mooli,

Drench it with basil, tomato and garlic coulis.

Just twirl on the handle and it is the biz,

You are set up for raw food, by jingo, gee whizz.

The house sits on a plateau,

Looking down across the bush,

You might see kudu or giraffe,

Leopard, at a push.

The pool’s cut in the hillside,

You swim right to the edge,

And look down on the world below,

From your elevated ledge.

You feel as if the sky is huge,

That it extends beyond your view,

And you are small beneath it,

This wall of white and blue…

There are warthogs on this land,

That pop up when you least expect,

They race away, their young in tow,

Their heads and tails erect.

It is a place of sheer delight,

This beautiful game ranch,

Everything’s as large as life,

Enough to make you blanch.

When my love needs a little head-space,

And wants to be alone,

She  takes off to her favourite place,

It isn’t far from home.

An air of peace and calm prevails,

And soon she feels renewed,

Her dinosaur just never fails

To earn her gratitude.

He is a silent sentinel,

He gives her no critique,

But oh, the tales this guy could tell,

If this statue could just speak.

This poem was written for my friend, Bill Sanders, who nursed and cared for his extraordinary sister, Vicky,  throughout her fight against cancer until the day she died.

Tender, loving, understanding

You carried your sister’s future in your heart and soul

And all who met you wondered at

Your uncompromising love for her,

Your fierce determination to keep her alive.

Every move you made was with her best interests at heart,

Even when, with misgiving, you took her home.

Never doubt the value of that journey;

The spiritual call of those we hold dearest,

Must never be undervalued.

Celebrate her; celebrate her life

And honour your part in it.

You are a man apart, a man to treasure,

Your sister knew it and so do all those who meet you.

Across the cattle grid and wind uphill,

Through ancient, twisting burr oak trees,

That unfurl above your head until

You reach the gorse and honey bees.

Here the heather starts to grow

In patches on the open moor,

Amidst ivy, balls of mistletoe,

And pine cones strewn on forest floor.

Wild ponies graze here, shy and quick

To move away from passers-by,

The woods are lush and they are thick,

So dense you cannot see the sky.

Ancient paths carve through this place,

Tracks that somehow man forgot,

You sense a timelessness and space,

Leading to some unknown spot.

Slopes drop very steeply down

Into a sparkling cobalt sea,

And high up there upon the crown

Of land, buzzards spiral lazily.

From here on sun-drenched summer days,

A real tranquility prevails,

And if not for a smoky haze,

You’d see clear across to Wales.

This place is beauty at its best,

This is truly god’s own land,

This is calm and peace expressed

By Nature’s loving hand.