I have always loved writing poetry - a poem I wrote as a child has been included in a Macmillan Christmas anthology, and I published poems before I started writing stories.  My poems have appeared in anthologies for publishers including Bloomsbury, Candlestick Press, Macmillan, Scholastic, Collins Children's Books, Oxford University Press, Otter-Barry Books and A&C Black. 

I have also written poems for Pearson educational publishers.

My mini eBooks One Week of Christmas Poems, One Week of Dinosaur Poems, One week of Nature Poems, One Week of Space Poems,  One Week of Football Poems, One Week of Spooky Poems, One Week of Seaside Poems, One Week of Pirate Poems and One Week of Puzzle Poems are available on Amazon Kindle.  The first six books in the series are also gathered together in the One Week of Poems Omnibus.

Here are a couple of poems. I'll change them every now and then so come back to see what's new.

RUNNING SIDE TO SIDE

Crabs ought to like the ocean,
As we live upon the shore,
But I’ve always been unsettled
By its foamy rush and roar,
And I wave my claws in panic
At the rising of the tide,
And I try to scrabble backwards,
But keep running side to side.

I need the damp to breathe,
But I’m still happiest on land,
So I fix my wistful gaze on
Dunes of rolling, golden sand,
And my claws wave in excitement
At horizons dry and wide,
And I try to scuttle forwards,
But keep running side to side.

It seems I may be destined
To live somewhere in between
Rolling dunes of golden sand
And crashing waves of bluey green,
So whenever you may visit,
I am likely to be spied
At the point where land meets water,
Always running side to side.

(most crabs can only move sideways as their legs are on the side of their bodies)

DOES A CATERPILLAR DREAM?
 
As a caterpillar crunches
All those lovely leafy lunches,
Does it raise its little eyes
To the butterfly-filled skies?
Does it watch them as they dance?
Does it wish for just one chance
To escape its leafy place,
And fly free in light and space?
As it chews and chews and chews,
Does it long for different views?
An escape from endless green?
 
Does a caterpillar dream?
 
As a butterfly is drinking
Golden nectar, is it thinking
Of lost days of steady munching
And companionable crunching?
As it flits through sunny skies,
Do faint memories arise
Of the crawl from leaf to leaf
In the shady world beneath?
Of a time when it was green,
Trying hard not to be seen,
Long before this rainbow splendour?
 
Does a butterfly remember?