Welcome to my 'small stone' blog.
I hope you find
something here that will touch your heart. The poems here will all be very short, some will be a Haiku style, and were prompted by the 'a river of stones' project: http://ariverofstones.blogspot.com/2011/01/what-is-small-stone.html
Please sign my
guest book, your comments will be much appreciated.

Wednesday, 23 July 2014

mock waterfall haiku

in raggedy web
spilling like a waterfall
debris in descent

Saturday, 5 April 2014

Moving on

Moving on,
the stuttered steps
lost beneath your feet,
you move higher,
though slower,
in the altitude of days.

Thursday, 27 February 2014

It was never meant to be permanent

There’s a dancing light colouring the sky,
its crayon lining cosmetics
an eye liner eye-grabber
beyond the prisming rain.
It fades as the snappers dilute it
with their camera-phones -
the paraphernalia of instants
and facebook boasting.
It was never meant
to be permanent,
but now lies captured
and repeated at whims
on screens.
The beauty stays in that moment -
the conversation of eye and sky
the penetration of light
and the intimacy
of seeing.

Saturday, 8 February 2014


The crackling timbrel of hail
smacks my window
like an angry parent,
while the wind
howls its encouragement
and the blue sky hides
behind a sofa of cloud.

Friday, 31 January 2014

31. Inflamed

Bright and burning
with a desire to fire
the gasses hiss
and the flames get higher.
Like lip touched coals
(the vision of Isaiah)
a pyrotechnic poem
leaps from the pyre.

Thursday, 30 January 2014

30. Heart of stone

Among the random pebbles
and glistening vibrant colours
this stone speaks.
It may resemble a heart
but it does not pulse,
it is fixed
until some passing rock
chips another facet
in its superficial hardness
or the roughage of arbitrary tides
smooth its surface against
its fellows.
How alike we are.

Tuesday, 28 January 2014

29. bystanders

Boulders stand at a distance
staring at the youth
dressed to impress
beyond the hedgerow.
Their weather-worn facets
the wrinkling of age and exposure
and centuries of standing still.

With a single eye the stare is returned
as the tower considers
it’s destiny.