my mother’s best dish

She made my favourite the times I came to visit:

lamb steak, succulent and softening in the oven;

glass of red on the side, slinky in finest crystal.


It was the only way she showed me she cared.


My response to Day Six of NaPoWriMo 2016: write about food

A poem for a fatherless Fathers Day

It’s been fourteen years

since Fathers Day has hurt.

I have no one to buy a card for.

I let the day pass unseen,

my grief rarely overt.

My maudlin nature I abhor.

But today my tears

I cannot avert.

Some days I just miss him more.

Candy-floss memories of a pier from my past

I felt all nostalgic today when I heard that British Tourism Week had kicked off with Party on the Pier.

Memories of Blackpool pier.

Apparently, piers in seaside towns are having a huge revival – thanks to more UK holidaymakers taking more domestic breaks; the phenomenon otherwise known as the staycation – and this week is celebrating the UK’s piers and their heritage, in conjunction with the National Piers Society.

But it’s not the heritage, or the staycation, or the celebrations that make me feel nostalgic. Its my candy-floss memories as a child, hopping, skipping and jumping along Blackpool prom to get to one of the town’s three piers.

Being Blackpool, the breeze was always bracing, and strong enough to Continue reading