Starring Sharron Green……

Hello Poetry Lovers! And welcome back to the Talk Show.

(rapturous applause)

Yes, it’s been a while I know, but absolutely worth waiting for! I am so proud to introduce our lovely and esteemed guest for today – Sharron Green

(standing ovation – security on standby)

(the lovely Sharron Green wafts gracefully down the stairs)…

Sharron, thank you so much for coming on the show. I’ve been so looking forward to this.

I do love that tank-top, I must say. Goes fabulously with the two-tone skirt.

First of all, thank you, Heather for inviting me along. It’s an honour to be interviewed by you.

Also thank you again. I’ve been desperate for one of these, and I sat up all night knitting it. Got a bit stuck on the orange stripes though!

Looks like you’ve pulled it off, Sharron! Isn’t that right, Poetry Lovers?

(smattering of agreement and wolf whistles)

I assume you’re up the discotheque later?

Oh yes, they won’t let you in without a tank top! And Norman Greenbaum’s appearing tonight……

What???! I’ll get knitting! Dobby, run up the wool shop! Pronto!!!

So, Sharron, tell us about yourself and how poetry came into your life….

I live in Guildford with my husband, Kevin (yes, Sharron and Kevin – don’t laugh!) and our lockdown puppy Dougie.

I used to work as a market researcher but now I’m studying for a MA in Creative Writing at the University of Surrey.

I’ve enjoyed writing poetry since I was little when my Granny used to encourage me to write poems to keep me busy when I was on holiday with her.

Gran’s eh? They shape who we are today, and are never forgotten. Also, that MA sounds a great move.

Who were your greatest influences?

Pam Ayres has been an inspiration to me since I watched her on Opportunity Knocks.

I have seen her perform live a couple of times and admire her ability to entertain an audience with poems that everyone can relate to.

Opportunity Knocks?! Suddenly all these memories of Monday nights in the seventies are flooding back! Hughie Green, eh?

They really produced good and solid talent, didn’t they..

.(spontaneous round of applause).

Yes, Pam Ayres is wonderful, isn’t she?! She has a new collection out, I believe. Fantastic influence, Sharron. What an iconic poet!

Now, how did it feel reading your work out for the first time?

After many years of not writing, I signed up for creative writing classes.

I felt nervous about reading my poems out to the class but I was thrilled with all the encouragement I received. That gave me the confidence to go to Janice and Donall’s The 1000 Monkeys monthly open mic meetings in Guildford. Which is where I met you, Heather and heard you read some of your fabulous ‘Bunty, I miss you!’ poems

Lumme! You’re making me blush! Bless you for those words. They were good nights there, weren’t they. I hope we can meet again there soon.

(audience sigh wistfully)

Now, you’ve produced a lovely pamphlet ‘Introducing Rhymes_n_Roses’ which is a wonderful read.

I hear that another collection is on the horizon…?

Thank you, you’re too kind.

Yes, lockdown poetry has helped keep me occupied and sane during this very strange year. I have contributed to a number of anthologies, including a couple of fundraisers, and I’ve produced my own compilation that I’ve called ‘Viral Odes’ due to be published on 1st December by Ink Gladiators Press.

I can’t wait, Sharron. It looks wonderful. I’ve been enjoying your poetry so much. You are so prolific, you put us all to shame.

Would you like to share your other projects with us?

I’m on Instagram as @rhymes_n_Roses where the poetry community is very dynamic and stimulating – for example I’ve had the opportunity to run an online poetry course with Poetix University.

Otherwise my studies are going to keep me out of trouble for a year. I’m learning a lot already and looking forward to seeing how my writing develops as a result.

I’m so glad you brought Instagram up – I really swooned over your pieces on there. Not only the strong writing and message, but the stunning way they were presented. It really jumps out at the reader.

Also, bless you for introducing me to Poetry Olympics on there, what a learning curve and supportive group of poets! I actually tackled a madrigal form! PO made August come alive for me! So grateful to you for that one.

Here’s some examples, PL’s, of Sharron’s wonderful new poems from ‘Viral Odes’.

(rapturous round of applause and sighs of awe)

Aren’t they just beautiful ?!

Sharron, what can I say? Good luck with 1st December – I’ll be the first in that book queue, I tell you! And thank you so much for coming on the show

(standing ovation – security look nervous)

Thank you so much for having me on the show, Heather.

Now I’d better get on, I don’t want to miss ‘Spirit in the Sky’. Is Dobby back from the wool shop? I have a message from Dougie for her

Lordy! I think Dobby is sending one back! Stop it, Dobby – now!!

Bless you, Sharron and enjoy the disotheque. It’s feet up and Shaw Taylor on the telly for me!

Goodnight Poetry Lovers!

(rapturous applause and standing ovation.

Credits roll up).

Wasn’t that just wonderful, Poetry Lovers. So enjoyed talking to Sharron there.

As you heard, Sharron’s ‘Viral Odes’ is out on 1st December. So get ordering.

Sharron’s website is and her instagram is @rhymes_n_roses I’d really recommend a look.

Tune in shortly for more poetry antics…….

Yellow Socks…

Hello, PL’s.

I would like to come back to our recent theme on laundry – or simply washing as most people refer to it. It’s a burden we carry and what better way to express that than through poetry (and sketches)?!

The lovely and clever poet Trisha Broomfield has risen to my recent challenge of inviting further poems on washing, and this piece is emotional, colourful and reflective.

A lovely poem Trisha, well done. Read on….

Yellow Socks

She pegged her washing to the line

one careful garment at a time

green with grey,

black with blue

but the yellow socks

threw her.

She could not peg them

with green or grey

and next to black they looked like wasps.

Yellow and blue,

everyone knew

were opposites,

like her

and the man

whose yellow socks

she washed.

Trisha Broomfield 2020

Wasn’t that just fabulous reading? Terrific, Trisha. Thank you.

The challenge is still there, PL’s, if you have a piece on laundry or using our everyday appliances. The glove is still thrown down.

Do write in….. Tune in soon for more poetry projects…….

Memory Corner….

Hello Poetry Lovers, and welcome to another memory corner.

The Delorean has been taken for scrap so get your bus passes and masks as we head back to 18th May 2019 and the Poetry Cafe. The Poem-A-Thon to be precise…

I was thrilled when the wonderful Paul E McCrane emailed about this exciting and ambitious project that the Poetry Society were hosting all day on that Saturday. So I volunteered and headed down there sharp-ish!

Would you also believe I volunteered to be an MC – from 12 midday till one thirty! Never again will I think MC’s have a cushy number! I could hear the quiver in my voice as I spoke into the mike.

One of the poets I introduced was the lovely Dino Mahoney – I was so pleased it was someone I knew. And clever poet Greg Freeman was in the audience, so that was nice. In fact, he took over MC-ing from me. I also introduced, among other wonderful poets, Suzanna Fitzpatrick, Joshua Idehen and HIlaire.

I read at ten to two for eight minutes. This was luxury to me, being used to five minutes in an open mic, and a walk in the park compared to being a MC!

Our hero Paul McCrane was at the back recording it all, so I handed him a jelly pizza sweet on the way out. I’m sure that kept him going for the next four hours!

This is me with the fantastic poet and friend, Astra Papachristodoulou. I had the pleasure of seeing her read, along with Ben Rogers, Oliver Fox and Helen Bowell. A great team from the Poetry Society. And to top it all – I won the Tombola four times! I adore that red picture I’m holding there, and I now have it framed. How lovely it is to win things.

That was the day I actually joined the Poetry Society – filled in the form and sent a cheque. I haven’t looked back since.

Thank you Poetry Society for such a wonderful day – and bless you, Paul McCrane and good luck for the future. Poetry@3 and all us poets will miss you so much.

Phew! I got quite emotional remembering that one, PL’s. It was a wonderful day. Needless to say, there wasn’t one this year. The Poetry Cafe was one more place we took for granted. I hope its doors open soon…..

Well, now we’ve caught the bus back, let’s relish that lovely memory.

Thanks for tuning in, Poetry Lovers and we’ll be back real soon for more poetry adventures…..

Skeltonic Verse…

Hello Poetry Lovers,

how do you feel about a skeltonic verse? They really are quite fun – do one as a lockdown exercise, You’ll never look back.

And what better way to get in nostalgia and sketches. I got out my crayons this time. I wrote this skeltonic verse in August about a girl I used to play with up the road – number 23, if fact.

I hope you like it…..


Linda at number 23

Flung a stone at me

I hid behind a tree

But she caught me out

And gave me a clout

So I kicked her about

She ran in crying

And I was denying

To her Mum, defying

But now I was trying

To be a good friend

She was the living end

Friendship on the mend

Then she called me a cow

My hand moved somehow

Across her face now

An accident, I swore

But both mums abhor

The behavioural flaw

But she was a bitch

And this was a bit rich

My Mum called me

In for my tea

And I watched the telly

Then sent to bed

It’s too early, I said

Linda said she’ll get

Me tomorrow, yet

with who’s army?

That girl is bloody barmy!

Linda’s a mare and a half

But she is a good laugh

I hope you enjoyed that, PL’s. I’ll be honest with you, that’s my favourite poem this year. It simply wrote itself. Do send in any of your own in this skeltonic form.

Thank you for looking in, PL’s. Tune in soon for more poetry action…..

Laundry Special….

Hello Poetry Lovers

Now I’ve been thinking a lot about launderettes lately, and how I found them magical as a child.

We always had a treacherous twin tub at home, so I relished trips to these places with my pal and her aunt Renee. Especially if I was sent to the flat upstairs to get change!

However, the truth is they weren’t wonderous at all.

The scales fell away when I grew up and walked in with my own washing, and I finally saw they were just grim and functional places. Harsh lit and lonely. Still, that spark remained….

This piece tries to reflect that. I hope you like it….

Soiled Goods ……..

It’s Wednesday and the twin tub swallows the kitchen. 

The walls shake as they devour Dad’s socks. 

But I want breakfast! I drag my teddy bear by the ear. 

You’ll have to wait!, Mum shouts against the noise,

her face moist and red.

Why can’t we go to the launderette? 

Enticing yellow machines caked with discarded powder. 

Knocking at the flat upstairs for change. 

Dryers instead of washing lines outside – icicles

forming on sleeves.

And that treacherous wooden clothes horse,

blocking the fire. 

Goosepimples run up my legs as I watch my nightie

drying – and I still go to bed with a damp crease. 

When it’s my turn to be washerwoman, I find   

launderettes no longer wonderous, just automated.

No more friendly chats upstairs –nor supervisors

in nylon overalls.

 My washing immaculate, not lurking with moisture,

but like a lost sock, a part of me stays behind. 

H.Moulson 2020

Dobby loathes the washing machine, by the way. Any poems about laundry or these former glamorous places are welcome. Do send them in…

Thanks for tuning in, PL’s.

We’ll be back shortly for more poetry japes.

Poetry Basket Review

Hello, Poetry Lovers Welcome back to the Poetry Basket Review.

Now, you may have seen that I’ve featured the terrific poet, Trisha Broomfield a few times. So I think it’s a natural progression to actually review her latest collection When Peter Sellers Came to Tea. This is Trisha’s third book, and her previous collections are The Equator & Other Disappointments, and Husbands for Breakfast. These are all worth a read. Wonderful pieces – detailed, nostalgic and so very poignant. A real insight into life and human situations.

Read on for a cracking review

When Peter Sellers Came to tea

By Trisha Broomfield

This exquisite collection of 40 detailed poems, makes compulsive reading.  Stirring our hearts in its nostalgia, humour and pathos.  Yet, despite nostalgic overtones, there are still issues that are as razor sharp today.

A third collection from prolific poet Trisha Broomfield, and her work just gets stronger.  We welcome these poems, as so many of us have lived through these situations, past and present.

We are embraced with Quaking in Queensland that deals with the trauma of an earthquake, yet it is still taken on in family spirit and humour.  Another classic family situation is Sizzling Fillets when the Hyphen-Jones pay a visit.  Haven’t we all cowed under such scrutiny from illustrious company?  And haven’t we also fallen back on our old friend Fray Bentos?!

Innards and Gizzards strikes a very strong chord, I hankered for that same Mary Quant lipstick – (they were stunning, weren’t they?), only to be thwarted and finally turning to the Rimmel section. 

Cinematic Experience takes us in a similar vein and makes us taste that very weak Kia-Ora once again.  Funny how that drink was almost compulsory, despite the impractical straws.  What’s more, this piece shares the memory of the rough romance and seedy glamour of that institution. 

The title poem When Peter Sellers Came to Tea is a romantic recollection and an account of meeting the man himself.  It also brings comfort in later life.  Beautiful piece conveying what might have been. 

A personal favourite is A Good Brew with its touching and tender account of that immortal  drink – tea, and the situations it has got us through.  The poet illustrates so well that with every family drama and tumult, there is a cup of tea brewing.  So much to the point that it’s even used for a final resting place.  Such a poignant ending.

Your Yellow Shirt takes us to the significance of a faded old photo, and those treasures and pain that they can hold for us.  Not to mention having to wait for the image to come back to you in the first place!  Beautifully done. 

The heart wrenching You Are Invited stays with us.  The strong detail and emotion will make the most cynical reader stir with this moving and painful account.

The wistful Happy Untogether – what might have been?  Or simply this is our situation? The stoicism of the couple’s lot is moving.    Whatever form the reader will like to take it, it’s says so very much between the text. 

Another personal favourite is Golden Shoes, especially the reference to Pond’s Cold Cream.  And who doesn’t have memories of their mother going out for the evening, kissing you goodnight while you’re in bed?  Trisha puts over that wonderment and forlornness.   Such faded glamorous memories. 

Another defining poem that I love is Princess, with vivid material and descriptions of a certain era and topped with the splendid Hawkwind.  This is a dream piece. 

The amazing Magic with the loneliness of a stripper, scores many points with its sordid atmospheres and human nature, and the mention of the fantastic Billy Swann.  Excellent! 

That Party carries a sensual wistfulness and former longing, and Having Kittens so intricately details a bedsit in Bethnal Green and a very significant visitor.  A hue of emotions hangs over every word.  Creping is disturbing in that it gives us the ultimate question while acknowledging how time and age will be quite brutal, and will take over in a blink of an eye.  How it can truly creep up on us.  Making up the Hours on this similar vein is so tangible and bitter-sweet. 

The End of the Book is such a fitting climax and goes at a great pace, in a collection full of these same virtues.  The surreal telling of the story was a book in itself. 

I highly recommend this collection, and word has it that Trisha Broomfield will be publishing again soon.  I can hardly wait!      

Treat yourself to Trisha’s book When Peter Sellers Came to Tea, available from Dempsey & Windle Publishing on

Thanks for tuning in, PL’s. We’ll be back shortly with more poetry capers!

Boys and Pubs……

Hello, Poetry Lovers,

Not sure which way round that title should go…..Pubs and Boys? Boys and Pubs? There was an era when they went hand in hand. I didn’t ever get the boy I fancied though, yet all my mates did! Where was the justice in that?!

This picture of me above, appropriately, was taken at the iconic French House in Soho. However, our local pub was much lower profile than that, and I couldn’t envisage any Soho bohemians going through the doors of the Queens Arms. Good-looking blokes did though……..

This is quite an old poem, do read on…..



In the pub, Julie liked a boy, sitting by the fag


But me and Sue didn’t fancy his mates

so she was on her own!

Then Sue gets off with a nice boy called Paul,

and I was out on a limb – again!

Why didn’t I ever get a boy I fancied?

What did I do that was so wrong?

And here I am, making awkward

conversation with someone called


Two spare parts together. 

While his pal Dave snogs Julie like

his life depends on it. 

He’s so gorgeous, and I wished

that was me, feeling his breath on

my skin. 

Sue has left the pub with Paul.

I long to ask her if it’s as wonderful 

as they say?

Mike takes my hand in his and

I snatch it away. 

I want to go home, but I’m buggered if Mike’s

coming with me. 

I pretend to go the bog, then slip out the main


I should have gone to the pictures instead!

Heather Moulson 2017

There you have it, PL’s, many a Saturday night was spent walking home in the rain, unaccompanied. That’s how I remember it anyway. So, when constant Saturday nights in as a result of Lockdown get on your nerves, think how much worse and lonely it could have been in that local pub.

Thanks for tuning in, Poetry Lovers. Now, to give Dobby her supper. Tune in real soon for more poetry action…..

Lockdown – the Good Side

Hello Poetry Lovers

Now don’t faint! I am actually addressing a contemporary issue instead of looking back as usual. You can hardly avoid these current times and lockdown, but I’ve made a bloomin’ good attempt!

For this issue, however, I will embrace it – or at least the wonderful poet Trisha Broomfield will. Fantastic Lockdown piece, showing us all the positive side of this unique and bizarre era. Fabulous reading.

Here’s a portrait of the poet herself, Trisha.

So, read on for this very personal and detailed poem….

Who and what got me through Lockdown

That jolly poet/artist Heather

those cheery girls from fab Bucks Leather

chatting with my dear chum Kirsty

countless cups of dark strong tea,

recording my own poetry.

Modelling clothes in my back yard

was fun, not even vaguely hard.

Zooming verse that was so new,

reading mine for all to view.

Walking very early, daily

greeting other walkers gaily

growing carrots, spuds and beans

living in my oldest jeans.

Live chats with my dearest sis

from my hubby, hugs and kiss(es)

that got me through.

Writing stories about people who

like me were caged in, in a zoo,

yoga helped to keep me supple,

the gift of living in a bubble.

Making soup in great big vats

talking to the neighbour’s cats,

watching calm Professor Whitty,

not giving in to much self-pity.

Reading chapters, stories, verse

from writer friends, who’re not averse

to editing the ones I send

suggestions of what I should amend,

Painting, sketching reading crime

scrubbing at the household grime.

Meeting Celia for coffee

who was fed up, bored as me,

we were brave and sat outside

gave others a berth quite wide.

Clapping for the NHS

eating chocolate to excess,

phoning friends from far and wide

knowing we’re on the self same side.

Sitting in my pal’s green acres

breathing countryside and spaces.

Gifts of eggs, more mugs of tea

beeswax from some local bees,

making face creams, in job lots

coming out in big red spots.

All of the above and more

have seen me through this viral chore.

Trisha Broomfield 2020

Wasn’t that just amazing?

Hands up who have embraced these things! I know I have. Not so hot on scrubbing household grime though – nor have I attempted soup for some years (my vegetable attempt was not to die for!). Otherwise, Trisha’s account struck a tender chord. Any other lockdown poems welcome.

Bless you, Trisha, thank you so much.

That’s all we’ve got time for, PL’s. I want to see those Lockdown poems flooding in….

Tune in for more poetry antics, same time, same channel……

The Dolls House

Why are dollshouses so sinister yet so alluring? Their very presence and loneliness makes us come to all sorts of conculsions. Yet (most of us) love them…

Here is a poem I have penned about the haunting aura of a dollshouse and its inhabitants. I remember being so frustrated as a child that they didn’t notice me, or look at me. I was excluded from their very small existence.

In the Dollshouse

Plastic Mum and Dad stare stonily ahead,

they don’t see me at all.

I urge them to look at me

as they sit by a fireplace

that doesn’t bring warmth.

Why don’t you see me?

They don’t care who I am,

I can’t be let in on their secrets.

And their thoughts stay private.

A tiny kettle by a lifeless cooker,

that never boils, stands next to a

sink which doesn’t get wet.

A bathroom next door, where the

toilet won’t ever flush.

A baby who doesn’t cry,

lies naked in a blue cot.

I put the parents on their hard bed

– and urge them to find sleep.

But their eyes never close, they

simply look through me.

Their limbs hard and cold, they

can’t take off their painted-on clothes.

I put a tiny blanket over them

but they don’t get warm.

I abandon them

when it’s time for tea.

Now, that brought a shiver up my spine. I’ve had dollshouses and plastic people for years, yet that made me cold. I guess these figures will never tell us anything.

Feel free to send in any toy poems yourselves. I’ll rummage through the poetry cupboard too.

There’s bound to be more spooky toys – I’m of that generation!

Thank you for tuning in, PL’s. More poetry action real soon…..

Zooming ………

Lumme, Poetry Lovers! So much Zoom going on at the moment….

Had a wonderful poetry Zoom last Thursday with Write Out Loud – then a breather till Sunday!

Then on Sunday at 4 pm, I watched Live from the Butchery hosted by the wonderful Martin Figura. Tip top readers!

Then our very own Virtual Poetry Performance straight afterwards, featuring the magnificent Math Jones…..

Followed by a detailed review the next day, typed up by Dobby….

Then on Tuesday night, it was virtual Poetry with the 1,000 Monkeys aka Donall & Janice………

Phew! The following night was also Dempsey & Windle, and I read at a poetry collection launch by the gifted and clever Ranald Barnicot…….

Phew! I’m getting square eyes. Reminds me of watching too much telly! (Didn’t our Mum’s warn us about that!) So a bit of a rest from that.

Zoom still isn’t really welcome, it’s still regarded with mistrust, but it is a way of keeping us together and our art alive!

Thanks for tuning in, PL’s. Dobby and I will be back for more poetry shenanigans real soon……..

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