a mobile generation

A mobile world,

a mobile phone

a mobile life we seek to lead-

moving, travelling, chasing some need

As Generation Y

we find ourselves

hunting for a home,

searching the New Territory; an internet drone.

Instagram, snapchat, facebook, tweet

“This food looks great…

Let’s take a pic before we eat”


Some break off, “Slow down” they warn

Getting smaller and smaller

as the connections get shorn-

But how to return to a less mobile life

Perhaps more steady,

perhaps with less strife?

How to be less available

to a world demanding more-

More time, money, thought consumption

it outsources many a chore

whilst trading in for new ones as we

tap, chat, send and reply

To an message we’re late for

that’s only just come by.

Mobility is wonderful,

it is freeing indeed

but just ensure we’re not the ones

trapped in with created need.



Fool’s Gold

She was standing before a crowd of faces
which had Once seemed to smile
but the closer she came
she came to realise that their eyes were vacant-
their heart and soul had taken leave.
That of all the people who had responded to her
call to “Come on board!” her one prized ship
to seek a Great Adventure,
there were only a few faithful to form a crew she might
truly rely on.
She grimaced but shrugged-
for Fool’s Gold has little Worth.

Run down by the black dog

The black dog came and brought her down
It tore down all the wall
She still looked bright up til the day
We didn’t see her fall
But just because it wasn’t seen
It didn’t stop the happening,
the black dog ran and ran its race
so Hope would seem unraveling.
Oh what we’d do or what we’d say
If only we had it another way…
We’d put the dog down if we could
But that’s not how it can go
Maybe if we’d all stop to sit
The face of it would show.
We couldn’t catch her as she slipped
between our ignorance and her pain-
But maybe we might bring hope to life
by learning how to love one another over and over again.



In tribute of a young doctor who committed suicide in the last week.

The bell tolls

The bell tolls

to tell the time-

the time that tells

of trials and trophies

waxing and waning

like the moon in each cycle.

She alone watches

every sigh in the night

but can ne’er push forward or back

the times.



Lost and Found

When you loose someone
You don’t loose all of them…
You don’t loose the books they stacked in the study
or the cups they once touched
You don’t loose their handwriting scrawled in an old notebook
or the bed in which they once lay.
When you loose someone
you don’t loose them all.
You might forget a little
as the years go by-
the books may be re-stacked,
the cups may chip
and pages do fade
Sometimes you may even clear some things to make room for others
But when you loose someone
you don’t loose them all..
A part of you will always hold them
No matter how many seasons have weathered your soul;
Whether you sit in the rain
and let the drops run down your cheek
or dance, hands thrown up
as the music fills the air;
Either way…when you loose someone
you will never loose all of them
because despite the years,
they always have some place
in your heart.