This is a dream I had about me being a lost soul wandering the earth in tears and confusion,in hope to find my one true love.

A poem of life as it should be – or so I thought in 1981.

Some sound motherly advice.

In a nightmare, I journeyed to Tehran, where I was shown home truths.

A traveling homesick poem inspired by the Beatles, Steve Miller, and Paul Pena.

This poem is for remembrance day and it is about life in the trenches. It is much cruder then I normally write in poetry,however; as I envisioned life in the trenches, it wasn’t sweet and pretty,it was nasty and cruel,death everywhere and no where to hide from it. My great grandfather, Harold Leadbetter served both in world war one and world war two, in the trenches for the first world war and stationed in Briton as an air force captain for the second war. I can clearly remember my mom telling me that every time she would ask him questions about the war he would break down and cry because the memories were so horrendous and then he would open a bottle to try and forget. Personally I believe to survive something like that you needed a lot of anger and courage and I tried to put as much of that into this poem as I possibly could.

Fantasy story. I know it needs editing.

What’s the Essence of being First and Last?

I thought it was kind of silly, I really don’t know why it came to mind. But, do you ever ask your self, why can’t humans fly?

Travelling to Inverness, my grandmother and I were met with an unforeseen interruption to our journey.