You cannot summon them.  They come when they will.  But who are they?  I am uncertain.  Our poet Colin Hopkirk seems to know, on this Day 784 of the Daily Poems.  I think so anyway. You cannot summon them   they come when they willin supermarkets or restaurantsin city crowdssometimes in passing carsalways dressed as… Continue reading

On this Day 783 of the Daily Poems it is 25 January.  Tonight is Burns Night, so it would be appropriate to have a Scottish-leaning poem.  Step forward your Editor with a reminiscence of the Braid Hills outside Edinburgh, slightly tinged with regret for the passing of the years … Braid Hills     In… Continue reading

On this Day 782 of the Daily Poems, our venerable poet Gorgonius reveals his regrets on how things have turned out … Half-decent In that bright summertimeof sixty years agothey made me captainof the First Form Cricket B Team. Didn’t last more than a week.Couldn’t bat.  Couldn’t bowl.I was not a leader of men;that came… Continue reading

Our poet Lynn White is of the firm conviction that regrets are best forgotten, on this Day 781 of the Daily Poems. Regrets Regrets are best forgotten,laid to rest in peace or in restless confusion.Dump them with the other debris,the detritus of the pastno longer needed.They will be taken away in time, disposed ofin the future,by the… Continue reading

Day 780 of the Daily Poems, and here is a villanelle by our poet Gordon Hoyles one of whose friends suffers from the agonising condition of ankylosing spondylitis. Unable to look behind her, she finds herself alone with regret, thinking to rearward. The ankylosing spondylitis song You can’t look back, just ahead and onwardand truly… Continue reading