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So - Tor Alvar Quan Lidell[1] Is a name unfamiliar (hard to spell) But recent happenings have brought His name to consciousness, unsought. Newsreader he, in London fair. On Radio, with dialect rare Throughout the war years he would read From Concrete bunker; he would feed The long despatches from the war The news that…

The iPhone is a handy thing, If someone calls, a tone will ring Connecting you to friend or foe, To Uncle Fred (or Auntie Flo), It holds your diary, and will feed ya All the crap from social media Texts and WhatsApp groups a-plenty From common folk or landed gentry Sometimes it’s my only friend,…

No doubt, our memories serve us ill When memories of childhood rise, Those memories stay with us still Despite mistakes, we recognise Disparity. Holidays out of school, The endless summer, sunny days The cloudless skies, which, as a rule Re-emphasised the sun’s bright blaze And not a day of rain was seen We played outside…

I am an English Patriot; I stand for what is right, Fuelled by contempt and anger; robed in English Red and White, Entitled, disenfranchised by folk who don’t look like me And especially by invaders who arrive from o’er the sea. I stick to Christian values, though, like Robinson and Co, By deploring what the…

or World Cup Willies[1] A ‘New World’ World Cup beckons now, We fly across the water, To Mexico, Canada and Trumpland To witness football slaughter. Gone are the days of ’66. The Wolstenholme restraint As Hurst completed hat-trick And a nation thought ‘How quaint.’ If we had known that triumph Would become a yoke, oppressive,…

or: An ode on the resignation of Sir Keir Starmer The years of constant scrutiny As those you trusted, mutiny The colleagues drift to another room And leave you bathed in Stygian gloom. The silence of the lonely one Poignant to be the only one Who’s not included in the shot While ‘trusted’ colleagues scheme…