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August 16, 2016



So good to hear your news

and swap notes just like old times.

We thought that we were suffering,

but when we read your letter – Crimes!


Our troubles seem so miniscule;

our blessings we did count.

Your words at times so funny,

through light-heartedness, no doubt.


Your bravery, we so marvelled at;

what strength, to see it through.

Living in our little bubble,

we tend to exaggerate – it’s true.


So good to hear your news,

and we really wish you well.

It also made our day,

to realise our life, not such a hell.


Needless to say, we’ll share with you,

the troubles you now face,

A problem shared is also halved,

let’s cut right to the chase.



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May 23, 2016



Last week I lost my ‘Jolly’ gene;

events got the better of me.

News, not so good, arrived unannounced

on a daily basis you see.


There seemed no end to suffering;

all sorts of memories flooded back.

Re-opening dusty compartments,

where ghosts from the past attack.


Last week I lost my ‘Jolly’ gene,

and in isolation sat.

Over – thinking as I tend to do,

when numb and feeling flat.


There seemed no end to misery;

I thought how life unfair,

and worried for the outcome,

of those, now facing their nightmare.


Last week I lost my ‘Jolly’ gene;

life stopped me in mid-stream.

A good spell of going forward,

broken with a scream.


There seemed no point in mixing,

but if only I’d been aware,

that you too were sat in darkness,

without your ‘Jolly’ gene, beside you there?


Last week I lost my ‘Jolly’ gene,

but with time, it will return.

Sharing support, the answer,

when for the past we yearn.


So next time you lose your ‘Jolly’ gene,

and sense you fail to see,

just get in touch and let me know,

and we’ll chat until we are gloom-free.



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March 25, 2016



What better gift to leave behind

than a thought that brings a smile to mind.

Each one different, and personal too,

meant for every individual, that you once knew.


What better gift when all is said

than a thought that brings a shake of the head,

followed by a chuckle, as friends recall

times well spent, when you had a ball.


What better fortune could you bestow,

than the part of you, you let folks know.

A world of wealth, each friendship worth,

such satisfaction when you leave this earth.





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December 26, 2015



Sugar stealers,

still out in force.

Their looming presence,

‘par’  for the course.


Oh, yes, yes, yes,

they readily agreed,

When the question posed,

planting the first seed.


Honeycomb centres,

sweetness deliver.

But the original source,

the purest giver.


Can I have it in writing,

with indelible ink, I plead.

So there can be no confusion,

causing hearts to bleed. 



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November 1, 2015




Forgive. Forget.

Move on.

Life is but a whistle-stop tour.



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October 13, 2015



I found myself hesitant,

and even a little scared,

entering the hot house from hell,

amongst plants quite absurd,


and yet, entrancingly beautiful

in their unique kind of way,

sat warm Trifid’s aplenty.

in a mesmerist array.


Then back out into tranquillity,

where a heron, quite still,

was clearly spotted at peace.

Oh such a joy, such a thrill,


to walk in the footsteps

of those gone before,

to soak up the ambiance;

please go, I implore.


To read of the children,

who played in the grounds.

To horse ride and fish in

idyllic surrounds,


and reside in a nursery,

that was hard to leave;

The best childhood possible,

they had, I believe.


Winterbourne House,

so superbly maintained,

with past memories intact;

real life in there remained.


Thank you dear Rosie,

these lines I impart,

for sharing the gift,

so very close to your heart.


This gem near the city,

( a whole world away,

from the hustle and bustle)

I shall return to someday.


This poem can be read on








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September 24, 2015



Out of the blue, the moment right,

to jump ship now, by harbour light,

and land unscathed, in calmer waters:

Mother of the sea, what sense you taught her.


Out of the blue, the Solent still,

reached by desire via Portland Bill.

No onward journey, destiny’s clutch.

Mother of the sea; thank you so much.





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August 18, 2015



‘Heatwave came along

and turned up the controls.

Their ‘Central Heating’ album,

warming many souls.


‘My Life’, a sure hit release,

with a meaningful beat.

Billy Joel gave of his best,

with his Album – 52nd Street.


Singing, for this songstress,

always a walk in the park.

Linda Lewis well remembered

for her delightful LP ‘Lark’.


Herbie Hancock; the cool dude,

who always got it right.

Made sure of huge success

with his great album ‘Sunlight’.


‘Warmer Communication’;

music we all understand.

Is still as good today,

by The Average White Band.


Billy Paul’s ‘Only the strong survive’,

and Rose Royce ‘Greatest hits’

two more special albums

that we all loved to bits.


One of the soulful romantics;

Al Green gave us ‘Explore your mind’,

and Gap Mangione’s ‘Funk America’

so right, when needing to unwind.


The Commodores ‘Midnight Magic’

was played until the dawn,

and also The Crusaders ‘Streetlife’,

brought us to another morn.


And finally, ‘The Weather Report’

came from Mr Gone.

Whilst ‘Exodus’, just the beginning

as Bob Marley’s sound lives on.


Albums notable by their Cover;

each track from memory, follows on.

The warm glow of nostalgia,

back then, when bright sun shone.


Each LP meant the world;

a musical diary to behold.

The plastic path of life;

the joy that vinyl told.


Written by Harriet Blackbury –

Usual copyright rules apply. 





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Tonys Time Machine


Wednesday  19th August

11 am – 1pm

(with repeats to follow at the usual times)

This week Tony is in conversation

with  Suzy.

and he will be reading Harriet’s poem –

For The Love Of Motown  – Part 1

Be sure to join in the fun





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August 1, 2015





It used to be said that as the

weather worsened, the warmth

of the people shone through.


And that no one in the south knew

their neighbours, whilst up north

they were welcomed with a brew.


The economics of life have now

changed that thinking, as we’re all

pulling each other out of a stew.


We’ve been told we are in this mess

together, though how we arrived here,

we haven’t got a clue! 




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