September 23, 2025

 

 

Hold tight the moment,

if you’ve a second to spare.

Before that lovely warm feeling

disappears into thin air.

 

Hang on to the memory

of good times well spent,

when days of pure ecstasy

so swiftly came and went.

 

Precious moments of stillness

are very rare indeed.

Often broken by birdsong

or a plane thundering by at speed.

 

So embrace the stillness,

it really is a must.

To rid oneself of anxiety,

is more essential than catching moondust.

 

 

 

 

 

Keep your head and your feet warm,

and put a smile on your face.

Keep your hands and heart warm,

and life will fall into place.

 

 

 

 

We lost an hour’s

sleep last night.

An hour we will

not get back,

 

until the summer

is at an end,

and the nights draw in

at this chicken shack.

 

 

 

 

Conkers by the dozen.

Conkers by the score.

Conkers in abundance

for our autumn store.

 

Conkers brought inside,

and scattered far and wide.

to rid the house of spiders,

a ritual, well and truly tried.

 

 

 

 

 

You give me light.

You give me strength.

You give me hope

to carry on.

 

You give me courage.

You give me warmth.

You give me peace

when sense has gone.

 

You give me time.

You give me solace.

You give me your all

in times of need.

 

You give me memories.

You give me smiles.

You give me love

on which to feed.

 

You give me guidance.

You give me a way.

You give me rest 

at close of play.

 

You give me faith.

You give me reason.

You give me a push

to start each day. 

 

 

June 13, 2025

 

 

 

With 24 of their hits on Capitol,

in 63 The Beach Boys opened their score,

when Surfin’ USA had a 7 week chart run,

reaching as high as No.34.

 

In 64, I Get Around, was a US No.1,

and peaked in the UK at No.7.

Also In 64, When I Grow Up To Be A Man

rose to No.27.

 

In 65, three more hits followed –

the first being Dance Dance Dance, at No.24,

and Help Me Rhonda, a US No.1 and UK No.27,

with California Girls at No.26, keeping us on the dance floor.

 

In 66, arrived four more hits,

when Barbara Ann made the Top 3,

and next, reaching the Top 2 was

another dance hall favourite – Sloop John B.

 

Also in 66, God Only Knows, rose to the Top 2,

with Good Vibrations a US & UK No.1.

And in 67, Then I Kissed Her reached the Top 4,

and Heroes And Villains at No.8 shone.

 

Ending 67, Wild Honey peaked at No.29,

and opening 68, Darlin’ rose to No.11.

followed by Friends at No.25,

and Do It Again found No.1 heaven.

 

Finally in 68, Bluebirds Over The Mountain made No.33,

and in 69, I Can Hear Music, at No.10 did arrive.

Also in 69, Break Away reached No.6,

and in 70, Cottonfields was a Top 5.

 

In 73, California Saga-California, made No.37 on Reprise,

and in 76, Good Vibrations, on Capitol, rose to No.18.

Also in 76, Rock And Roll Music, on Reprise, made No.36.

In 79, Here Comes The Night on Caribou, at No.37  was seen.

 

Also in 79, Lady Lynda, on Caribou made No.6

and Sumahama, also on Caribou, rose to No.45.

And in 81, Beach Boys Medley, on Capitol, made No.47, and

in 87, Wipeout, on Urban, with 5 Fat Boys, at No.2 did arrive.

 

In 88, Kokomo, on Electra, was a US No.1 & UK No.25,

and in 90, Wouldn’t It Be Nice, on Capitol, made a No.58 score.

And in 91, Do It Again, on Capitol, reached No.61,

and in 96, Fun Fun Fun, on Polygram, with Status Quo, made No.24.

 

Brian Wilson, you were a legend,

and a master of your art.

You were also loved by millions, with the ability,

 through music, to reach every heart.

 

Thank you for the music

R.I.P.  1942 – 2025.

 

written by Harriet Blackbury

 

 

 

 

May 27, 2025

 

 

When as a child

I was taken to my very first football game,

it awoke in me a feeling

that to life there now was some aim.

 

I entered a stadium so wondrous,

filling with people as eager as me,

to forget all their daily troubles

and join together in sweet harmony.

 

And on the day I received for my birthday

a season ticket with my name inside,

was one of the happiest days of my life,

I was hooked and so full of pride.

 

We became a close-knit triangle …

my grandad, dad and me,

and on freezing days when we were losing,

we still had hot pies and a flask of tea.

 

We shared great cup runs together

so excited waiting for the next draw,

and the chance of playing away to a top club

made defeat just a little less raw.

 

And when I moved off to uni

another club became my team of choice,

‘Whatever is the boy thinking?’

exclaimed my family, in one voice.

 

Then, when I married and had children

and grandad passed to the other side,

my son took over his seat in the stand,

and that day we won, and were misty-eyed.

 

Football always there to turn to

and through the decades still remains,

at the very heart of family foundations,

each club singing its own refrains.

 

This poem is not just about one player

displayed on our bedroom wall in a frame,

it’s a story of love and unity

brought together by this fabulous game.

 

by Harriet Blackbury

 

and can be read in Issue 93 (page 40)

of Backpass – The Retro Football Magazine.

 

 

 

 

 

 

January 3, 2025

 

 

and on that note

one must not dwell.

A giant quaver.

A decibel.

 

and on that word

one must not linger.

A time of loss.

A real hurt bringer.

 

and on that thought

one must not sleep.

The mighty fortress.

The castle’s keep.

 

and on that question

one must not reply.

Let the past be done.

Let the time go by.

 

and on that subject

one must not forget.

The good times plenty.

The heavenly duet.

 

and on that milestone

one must not stand still.

Many roads to conquer.

Many walks uphill.

 

and on that sorrow

one must not recall.

A time put to bed.

A new day to install.

 

and on that future

one must not deny.

A brighter time.

A freedom cry.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Words not dated or orated

become words signed off with anon.

Words not claimed or yet debated

can belong to anyone.

 

Words not owned or contemplated,

without structure, hang about.

Words not meant or clearly stated,

lose credulity, without doubt. 

 

Words unsaid or even thought,

like lightening’s flash, just pass on by,

before the mind, they ever enter,

now all words belong to AI.

 

Words not even worth their salt,

become the enemy of our rhymes.

Words now stolen from life’s vault!

Copyright an ass, in these strange times.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Is it really out of the question?

Is it really so extreme?

Is it a figment of the imagination?

Is it really just a pipe dream?

 

Is it too far fetched to believe in?

Is it hiding in plain sight?

Is it just the fascination

of thinking you are up for the fight?

 

Is it possible you have the strength?

Is it true you are in contention?

Is it just a passing rumour?

Is it even worth a mention?

 

Is it likely you’d want the job,

if it was offered to you on the spot?

Is it worth telling all the world,

that your name is back in the pot?

 

 

 

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