Sandiacre (Remove filter)
Stoney Clouds
Thank God, or St Giles anyway,
For Stoney Clouds.
You could be anywhere in the: Peaks, the counties, the Dales or the moors.
Jays give sudden alarm in coppice charms,
As people arrive, who should be indoors,
Locked down from our friends and family,
But luckily not the green of Stoney.
Stoney, an apt name for stoner youth,
Pot-plastered at the bench,
On the summ...
Sunday 22nd November 2020 3:25 pm
Recent Comments
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Stats (To be continued)
17 minutes ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Sonnet: Imigh Hotovely, Imigh Smál Damnaithe! Imigh is Póg mo Thóin! [Out Hotovely, Out Damned Spot! Out and Kiss my Arse!]
29 minutes ago
Rolph David on The Anchorage Gambit – Reflexive Control
42 minutes ago
Graham Sherwood on Stats (To be continued)
1 hour ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Tikumtok
1 hour ago
Stephen Gospage on August 2025 Collage Poem: A Cut Above
1 hour ago
Nigel Astell on August 2025 Collage Poem: A Cut Above
7 hours ago
John Coopey on I SHAN’T ALWAYS BE LOVELY
10 hours ago
John F Keane on August 2025 Collage Poem: A Cut Above
11 hours ago
John F Keane on A Cut Above
11 hours ago