Embraced in arms,
deserving of attention,
kisses and caresses,
no hint of deception.
Honest affection,
straight and true,
returned desire
that is their due.
She is his
as he is hers.
Content in love
and all that infers.


As much to any… to two in Aus. The rest of your life together awaits.




Ignored and unseen,

one in the crowd,

tears fall,

head bowed.

Her identity squashed,

confined and denied.

Would she be missed

if they learned she had died?

Flaws magnify,

weaknesses grow.

Pain inside

her friends don’t know.

She flees the room

in hurt and despair,

so alone,

a soul stripped bare.

As One.


A simple poem. It’s hand written because I am offering my services for a charity auction. This was hurriedly written, the lines aren’t as straight as they should be and some of the letters aren’t a uniform size but you get the idea.

6th September


I will create a personalised poem for the highest bidder and handwrite it, any theme and content determined by the recipient. All in a good cause to raise funds for a twenty-one year old who needs funds to pay for a cancer treatment that until recently was provided by the NHS.

Their Love


They were drunk
but not so much.
They gasped
at a soft touch.
They lay there
Seeking love
they would find.
and caressed.
Two men
two men

This has grown out of the wonder of what love is and knowing that love is not something unique to a man and a woman. This is not about sex, this is simply about how love can be something that unites. Whether we speak of love as a species, a nation, a neighbour, a friend or a partner, why should one love mean anything different? Regardless of sexual preference, love simply is. It has no constraint, it has no guide, it is an emotion and it will do what it will. So never judge love, just glory in its existence and be grateful we all share the capacity for it.

It says a lot that I felt the need to explain; not so much to anyone reading, but for myself. In a world without prejudice, I could simply post the poem. In this world, I feel the need to justify myself and say “This is not my life, this is not who I am. I am merely a commentator on other’s loves.” That I feel that need shows to me how much more I must try to be the tolerant and unprejudiced person I imagine myself as. Maybe I have further to go than I thought.



He killed the engine,
opened the door.
She stepped out
to the leaf strewn floor.
Blindfolded he led
into the wood.
She followed his lead
as any sub should.
Lost from sight
she was bound to a tree,
fastened with cuffs;
he left with the key.

Alone and naked,
pressed to the bark,
an hour passed
and the wood grew dark.
A rustle of leaves
then breath on her shoulder,
a light caress
then the stranger grew bolder.
His fingers sought entry
high up her thigh.
The graze of denim
as he undid his fly.

Feeling him deep,
slamming into the tree,
she moans out in pleasure
from the man she can’t see.
Forceful and rough,
his thrusting is swift.
Departing in silence,
no thanks for the gift.

Master returns,
untied, she leaves;
she’s feeling fulfilled,
yet her pained heart still grieves .
Back at the car
he robes her in his coat.
Undoes the blindfold
and gives her the note.
The stranger it states,
was no stranger to her,
though she never knew it
the stranger was Sir.

While She Dreams.


Silk slid soundless

across her soft, smooth skin,

sensually unveiling

as his hand gathered it in.

He gazed in adoration

as the one he most desired,

slept on unaware

of the passion she inspired.

With hardness in his clothing

but softness in his heart

he thinks through all the words

that he’d so wish to impart.

Yet his love strikes him dumb

the moment she’s awake,

loving her forever

with vows he’ll never break.

Waiting on happiness

A Short Story.

 She stood nervously, holding his hand before the imposing door. Her love for him had always been immense but fear intruded into all her thoughts as she crushed his fingers nervously. Her head was bowed as she starred at the heavy brass doorknob. Part of her eagerly anticipated the moment she would be led through the door into the room beyond and yet, her mind kept drifting back to the bedroom of two nights earlier. The rapturous passion in the darkness had dwindled into a contented ease as she had lain with a warm heart against the clammy skin of her lover; the sheets around them damp with the sweat of their loving. She had been held tight and held back with the same ardour as was gifted to her.

Now, with the door before her and clasping the hand of the only man she had ever loved, he reached forward and slowly turned the knob. With a hesitant glance at the older man, she stepped forward with a confidence she didn’t feel.

The room opened up before her, two dozen people all gathered, all waiting for her. Nervously she cast her eyes down and examined her dress, terrified they may all notice something about her appearance that they may disapprove of.

He led her deep into the mass of people and then, standing with all eyes upon her, she looked to her left and smiled.

Standing beside her, in a matching dress, stood her bride to be. Her father raised his arm and released her hand. He passed his daughter over to the love of her life. The woman who was to swear her life to forever keep his only child safe.

The two women clasped their palms together and turned to the officiator as they prepared to take the vows that had been agreed upon while lying in the darkness in each other’s arms.

 Written for Mandy and Lynn.

With the morning bringing Pride to the South West, I thought it appropriate to write something that refelcted that. I hope all goes well with you my friend.