More Beauty Spots….

Hello Poetry Lovers

Welcome back to the Beauty Spot. Wonderful and clever poet Trisha Broomfield has risen to my challenge and presented us with a beautiful piece titled Make Up.

This is so so poignant, and has such a strong subtext. Thank you so much, Trisha.

Do read on

Make Up

Mum faced the world wearing her face

A confidence painted on, red lipstick the

Key, wearing a touch brittle at times.

Eye shadow blue, spit on mascara curled on

Underneath was her wobbly self

Putting on a show, hoping it would reach inside.

24/08/2021Trisha Broomfield

Wasn’t that just wonderful?! Keep them coming, Trisha and other PL’s.

Tune in real soon for more poetry antics…..

Beauty Spot

Hello Poetry Lovers

Welcome to our beauty spot section.

Adoring any form of cosmetic, I’ve tried to sum up a life-long hankering for something intangible. And I don’t think I’m the only one by any means.

The word beauty promises something so elusive, anyway do read on…..

Made Up 

Mum went out the house with a 

smudge of lipstick and face powder

Sister would do some self-mutilating 

eye-liner, and spit on cake mascara

I longed for false eyelashes and baby

pink blusher 

But toner took off half my skin

loose powder granules swum in my handbag

Mascara on my pillow

traces of red lipstick on a tea cup

Tan soaked tissues on the dressing

table – all slovenly attempts at beauty 

Foundation only good for covering 

love bites – and tears.

I wasn’t going to find my other face.

One that other’s put on so easily.

Glamour would never be my friend 

destined to stand in the beauty playground 

all alone 

  • Until I discovered bronzer!        

H Moulson 2020

I hoped you like this piece, PL’s. We’ll be back real soon for more poetry shenanigans.

More Nursery Rhymes with Dobby….

Hello Poetry Lovers

Jetting off for a couple of days so I’ve left this site in Dobby’s capable paws. She has come up with more nursery rhyme variations. Do read on, and I’ll see you soon

Diddle Diddle Dumpling

my black cat

went to bed on my best mat.

One claw off and one claw on.

Diddle Diddle Dumpling

my black cat.

Pat-a-cake, Pat-a-cake

Fishmonger man.

Get me a sardine as

fast as you can.

Pat it and prick it

and mark it with D.

Put it in the oven for only Me.

Weren’t they great?! Excellent work, Dobby. I’m actually getting the cold shoulder because she’s seen my suitcase but hopefully I’ll get round her soon and then we’ll be back with more poetry fun and games real soon…..

Seguidilla part two

Hello Poetry Lovers

I am very pleased to return to our Seguidilla section, part two.

Lovely and talented poet Trisha Broomfield took up my challenge of a seguidilla and it’s a strong and wistful piece. Certainly one that will strike a chord. So thank you, Trisha, beautiful piece.

Do read on ;


In that swimming pool azure 

I swam alone, pure,

sheltered from the world out there

naked, not a care

streaming out my hair

only gazing at the sky

not wondering why

Now I cover up to swim

self-conscious, knowing

no going back, no return

clinging to the past

memories to last

a lifetime, thinking of you

our lives diverging.

20/05/2021Trisha Broomfield

Wasn’t that beautiful?! Thank you so much, Trisha. Please keep them coming….

Thank you for tuning in, PL’s. We’ll be back real soon….

Dobby’s Test Card

Hello Poetry Lovers

Lovely to see you again.

Today we are showing a test card (like BBC2 used to have) with Dobby’s poetry.

This is an interim while another exciting poetry concept is being rehearsed. So feast your eyes, and enjoy;

I hope you enjoyed that little collage of Dobby’s rise in the poetry world. Thanks for tuning in, PL’s.

We’ll be back with some poetry antics real soon…….


Hello Poetry Lovers

Today we feature the Seguidilla, a Spanish poetic form with 7 lines. It goes in syllables of 7-5-7-5-5-7-5. I found this one hard work but had to share it with you, read on;


I stir my homemade curry 

Fenugreek and seeds 

Its pungency cloaks the air

And fills all my needs 

No more takeaways

When we would go collect it 

In those salad days 

I need the memory and

Our takeaway 

 That now sells coffee 

Come and visit me

And see for yourself 

How our special world has changed

But I’m still myself

H Moulson 2021

Thanks for reading, PL’s. Now can any of our lovely poetry lovers come up with one of these? I’d love to see them. Answers on a postcard please.

Thanks for tuning in, we’ll be back real soon….

Dream Reunion

Hello Poetry Lovers

Do you ever get those half-asleep kind of dreams? In the very small hours before morning really comes into its own? And are they about people long gone?

Suddenly, they’re there before you and you’re talking to them like you used to. In this case, it was a friend who had been gone for over 10 years. And there she was again – albeit briefly.

Bit of a maudlin piece but do read on;

Dream Reunion

Last night I saw you again –

reunited at last.

Your voice had changed.

I hadn’t heard it for so long.

We tried to recapture the intimacy of

the classroom and girl’s bog secrets.

Reading Henry Miller when your Mum was out,

a dab of powder puff before I ran

round your house to listen to Dory Previn.

What have you been up to?

Not much, I’m guessing.

Did you know Laura Ashley’s shop isn’t there anymore?

Do you remember when Biba closed?

You’re slipping away, your voice faint.

I didn’t get shortlisted, I blurt out in panic,

and the Columbo’s on Channel 5 are all repeats!

The cat’s been sick, and my husband won’t

leave the dishwasher alone!

I woke up then, and you’d gone.

The changing world and my problems were

too much for you.

H Moulson 2021

Thank you for tuning in, PL’s. We’ll be back real soon….

The Babysitter’s Lament

Hello Poetry Lovers

Well, I’m thrilled to say I’ve got a poem into the Mother’s Union London Diocesan News.

An unlikely place for my sort of work to be, but they accepted it, and it’s the equivalent of a T S Eliot award to me.

It’s a wistful sort of piece.

Do read on;

Babysitter’s Lament 

How did you get this big?

When did I become the child?

And you the adult, studying my


Should you even be up this late?

I used to read you a bedtime story.

The roles now truly reversed and

you’re reading me a different story


Saturday nights I would come to your house,

I can still see you in your pyjamas and

Thomas the Tank slippers.

None of this will mean anything

to you now, you’re too busy chasing

paths and fulfilment.

But later on, you’ll wonder who

hugged you and put you to bed.

How much tax do I owe again? 

H Moulson 2020

I hope you liked it, PL’s. A wistful, rueful looking at things passed and how quickly it all went. I recall those tender babysitting moments so clearly, barely noticing how these children grew up, and how quickly they didn’t need you anymore. No more Saturday nights….

Dobby has just dropped a large hint there, so I’d better pay attention to her every whim.

Thanks for tuning in, PL’s. Same time, same channel……


Hello Poetry Lovers

Today, we have an incredibly poignant piece from the talented poet, Trisha Broomfield. Very touching and personal that will strike a chord with all of us.

Sadly, most of us have been through these milestones, tears and laughter. And pain.

A very poignant piece, do read on;

Milestones a conversation with my body

OW! What was that?

You’ve lost a milk tooth.

I don’t want to lose a tooth

You won’t notice, you’ll grow more

then they’ll fall out because of all the chocolate you’ll eat

but it hurt

It’s called a milestone, dear

Oh great, are there any more of these?

silence from my body.

Ow a lot! How long is this going to last?

It’s called period pains, dear, not long, some years, they’ll go, get pregnant they’ll definitely go temporarily. But that’s another milestone.

Ow again, my heart aches, I can’t eat

I can’t sleep, I’m in love.

No, that’s infatuation dear, it’ll pass

But it hurts so much

it’s another milestone isn’t it?

Silence again.

Good grief my head! I feel sick, I suppose this is another,

Milestone, correct, it’s the first of many, if I were you, I’d stop at two

or maybe take the pledge

Oh body this hurts too much

I don’t like this milestone at all!

It’s grief, it will pass, everyone has to go, you can’t keep your parents until you die

imagine how old and decrepit they’d be if you lived to be a hundred

not that you will.

You know something I don’t?

Just get over it dear, before the next milestone.

Trisha Broomfield 2021

Wasn’t that such a beautiful and detailed piece?! Thank you so much, Trisha. I think we’ve all got misty-eyed over that lovely poem.

Thank you for tuning in, PL’s. We’ll have more poetry adventures soon. Same time, same channel.

Diminishing Verse Challenge

Hello Poetry Lovers

Today we return to our diminishing verse challenge. Genius poet, Sharron Green has come up with an absolute winner

Mrs Slagg fully approves, and there’s free pie for Sharron on her next visit to the Slagg’s Cafe. Wonderful piece, Sharron, thank you so much.

Do read on, PL’s;

I’m happy to pledge

Slagg’s Cafe’s a ledge

It sure has the edge

The menu is strapping

Pies with ev’ry trapping

Hear rhymers a rapping.

They’ve had to ban stripping

since old folks went tripping

after corset ripping.

So please take your place

The cloth isn’t lace

But Slagg’s Cafe is Ace.

Wasn’t that just wonderful! Lovely way to start the week. Thank you Sharron, please keep them coming.

Thanks for tuning in, PL’s, we’ll be back real soon.

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