When you write poetry it's meant to be read,
By people who want to read all that you've said...

There has to be an answer for all things that...
There has to be a reason but I don't know what it...

One of us is with each of them from the moment...
They can see us in the light but not in the dark...

Murphy ate an apple,
He got it off a tree...

In the brightness of day, white light secretly...
It's colours are hidden until contact with...

Ah've got somethin' tae say an' it matters a lot,
Ah'm desperate tae tell ye that ah'm a true Scot...

The machine is breaking down,
It is ageing and well used...

So much I want to say, but I can say nothing.
So much I want to see, but I can see only what...

Looking at the person opposite, I wanted to be...
The worn face, weathered with time, lined with...

Another dull, drab, unfeeling, unthinking moment...
Void of laughter while others laugh, of fun while...

Agility days are cold and wet
And rarely ever sunny...

Once upon a time, a twice weekly acquaintance...
young, lovely, bubbly, intelligent, this friend...