A series of light verse written by the pool on various Summer holidays. Sunday, September 13, 2009. A couple of pints and I needed to go. My bladder was straining and heaving and so. I made my excuses and rose from the table. And dashed off as quick as my fat legs were able. Beautifully painted in coats of matt vinyl. I had thirty seconds of blesséd relief.

Thursday, July 30, 2009. As we had planned,. The pyracantha grew and, sprawling,. Blocked out the breeze block back wall. Of our square suburban home. So high it stretched,. That it threatened to blot out. The early morning sun itself,. And I suggested, one evening, from the sink,. That it needed its wings clipping. Child of the blackened chimney,.

This is a collection of sporting verse - not including football and rugby, which can be found elsewhere - mainly written for the Creedon Show in 2005 and 2006. Monday, March 23, 2009. Who gives a bloody damn? Time seemed to stop. As the ball left the ground. Would the game be a flop. They did not make a sound,. All eyes were glued fast. Was time ever so slow. It ceased to exist,. There was naught we could do. Oh when will the .

Managing risks is the cutting edge. Why has this picture gone viral? The touching image you see here posted a few days ago on Humans of New York.

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