Roger Whittaker Whistles ..


Timeline Man


The Cordwainer


Solar system 2


Betty Broderick


Evolutionary Reptilian Features


Ancient Britons


In The Clouds


The English Language


African eMigration

Set to Sleep


How didst thou set to sleep 

My little chief librarian ?

Didst thou read the Book of Kells ?

Or, pray, a Tale of Cities, intertwined

My cherubic biblitist ? Or

A verse of Oxford encyclopaedic rhyme ?

Some Annals mythic filled with Herculean tasks ?

The Master of us all – dear William Shakespeare ?

Perhaps the complete and fullest Volumes of Sherlock

Late of Baker Street

Did guide thee to thy rest ?

(Or a sip of rosé wine methinks)

Indeed I readeth briefly

Spouse of no regard

My “Womans Own” and “House and Home”

Did keep me continent and free

The bard is not my taste l fear

Nor thimblefuls of wine 

(Nor thee !)

It was the worst of times

It was the turning of the tide

It was a reasoned  disenchantment

She had been a sun-dressed infant

She had been a pearl of charm

Of tulips  petalled 

On this the warmest afternoon in May

It was the fresh perfume aside

It was the turning of the tide

We parted company that eve

She, to her abode at Corry’ford

Me to my chagrin

A tent at Purdy’s Lane

Disquieted and bitter With the thought

That it was she who ruled the past

The present 

And my future –

Set to be deformed And morphing into ether