To market, to market,
They’re selling fatted sheep
To market, to market,
Then they have us put to sleep.

To market, to market,
They’re selling off our meat
To market, to market,
For those carnivores to eat. 

To market, to market,
They turn us into chops
To market, to market,
In those blooded butchers’ shops

To market, to market,
Our bleats are never heeded. 
To market, to market
They claim our meat is needed.

To market, to market,
They’ve already had our wool
To market, to market,
Now it’s us they cull

To market, to market,
We’re mutton casserole
To market, to market,
Think for whom the bells toll.



The photograph, captured recently through the window of an inn on the A30 in Hampshire, is of a three-tiered cattle truck, with what appeared to be a full load of sheep.


Too Short a Life

red lighted candle

Photo by Nubia Navarro (nubikini) on

Come to me in dreams
and still my hurting heart;
From all you meant to me
I cannot softly part.

As memory dulls and life
proceeds with steady tread,
it won’t be long before
I follow where you’ve led.

Life is too short for living,
Eternity too long.
Perhaps to swap them over
would right a painful wrong.



The Spring Bonus

depth of field photography of tulip flowers

Photo by Vural Yavas on

The Spring Bonus

You promise a delicious bonus
I wonder what joy that could bring
Perhaps, being a tell-tale romantic,
And allowing conjecture to sing, 
A cruise on a tropical ocean, 
Where mermen and mermaids will bring
Their wisdom, their unceasing love songs, 
To promise delight in the spring.


Spring Lives – A Reverse Cinquain


close up photography of yellow flowers

Photo by Jacek Mleczek on

New Life –

Daffodils burst from gracious earth

Golden in their splendour

Spilling their joy

– Spring Lives



 Reverse Cinquain:  Simply a Crapsey Cinquain in which the syllable count appears in reverse order. Adelaide Crapsey’s cinquains utilized a syllable count of 2-4-6-8-2. Therefore, the syllable count of the Reverse Cinquain is 2-8-6-4-2.

Composed in response to Abigail Gronway’s Challenge: at:


To What Yet Will Be


I wanted you to be there
Breaking the cold loch surface
A glimpse of your existence
That sinuous shape
A wave writ large
Imprinted by myth
Granted to my searching eyes
That fearsome snout
Proud Periscope
Rising from the darkness of the depths
To pierce the horizon
Breathing wonder
Awe and grace

Such hopes and wishes
Fulfilled in imagination
Sustain my being
When all else fails
Connect my Past
To my Present
And thus
To what yet Will be

The Ballad of the Fatberg

Fatberg – Fatberg, Growing so fast;
Fatberg – Fatberg, Growing so fast;
Please don’t tell them where I am
They’re sure to set up a webcam.

I’ve made my way along this river
Accepting all from every giver
Now I’m stuck – a great fat ball.
Full of gunge and ten feet tall.

Mounds of wet-wipes, cooking fat.
Now you know what happens to that.
Rolled into one gigantic ball,
Big as the goddammed Albert Hall.

They say how many of us exist
In pipes and rivers in our midst.
Across our fair and pleasant land
Disposed of waste … Ain’t it grand!

When they’ve dispersed my fat and grease
all those wet wipes, every piece
Then at last I’ll meet my end
But then the next one will descend

And when dissolved, where do we go?
Why, into the sea then, don’t you know?
That great big cess pool in the ocean,
Unlikely to stir your dulled emotions. 

A FATBERG is a congealed mass in a sewer system formed by the combination of non-biodegradable solid matter, such as wet wipes, and congealed grease or cooking fat. Fatbergs became a problem in the 2010s in England, because of ageing Victorian sewers and the rise in usage of disposable cloths. Wikipedia


Photo: WHB – 2019


Roll up! Roll up and help yourself, 
Go on a spending spree, 
For here you’ll find no worries now, 
‘Cos all the cash is FREE. 

Just help yourself, indulge and binge, 
Splash cash without a thought. 
Your bank is feeling generous
And it will cost you naught. 

Perhaps their vaults are full today;
Maybe they’ve too much money. 
Perhaps it’s just philanthropy, 
Though something there feels funny. 

So take advantage while you can
Of such fiscal generosity. 
You’ll never have a better chance
To show your verbal virtuosity. 

For when your monthly balance sheet
Shows all those sums in red,
Don’t bat an eyelid, keep quite cool, 
Remind them what they said.

For FREE means FREE, you are quite right, 
Tell your bank politely.
They may not listen, as is their wont, 
Don’t let the beasts off lightly.