My poetry tends to come from bleak places of loss and despair. That is not to say that the poems are bleak. Often, they are lyrical and hopeful. I recognise a thread of cynicism in them sometimes. On occasion they are angry and bitter. But with the poems (unlike my prose) I try to let the feelings emerge uncensored. I also recognise my influences, and I hope I have used them respectfully and with enough of a tip of the hat to make them transparent.

I have an old-fashioned affection for rhyme and rhythm. Sometimes I write a poem as something to be read aloud. I don’t think we ever hear enough poetry. But I don’t want to hear some miserable people muttering from a corner, I want to hear the voice of the shaman, the percussive thump of his staff as he shouts across the clearing. I want to hear the wild drums that accompany the passion of the wise woman. I want a chorus that lets us all share in the pain and the love. And then at other times I want a reflective ode that one might read in a window seat, while outside the rain beats against the window, and the trees writhe in the wind.

I hope you find this poetry moving. I have also written many prose pieces about psychology, nature, politics, places and music. I try to keep an ear open for poetry even when I’m writing prose.

They tell us not to need a home

A poem of yearning, for beauty, for a life that honours nature, for the archetypes of the great Mother and Father, for a home.


I wrote this poem to be read aloud, to be performed. It is not a kind thing – it isn’t calm, it isn’t polite. But it comes from the heart…

Stagecoach to Petersfield

I took a bus to Petersfield one day. This poem describes what happened on the way. Look, I’m not going to explain every poem – work it out for yourself!


A poem about love, loss and fear. It uses clasical imagery mixed with contemporary observation to reflect on the archetypal power of great emotions.

Richmond: early May bank holiday

A poem in which I take a walk by the Thames at Richmond on an early May bank holiday. It brings reflections on the present as well as grief for the past.


A poem exploring the druidic importance of wrens, both at an archetypal and personal level. Of course it’s about love too.