Poems written by GLENDA KELSALL

Freddy The Flea

Freddy The Flea long poem

Freddy the flea moved in here with me, and his family were queued up behind. I said ‘it’s a cheek’, but he looked pretty bleak, so I said c’mon in’ ‘cos I’m kind. In they all trotted, and now they

Just Another Day

Just Another Day ballad

Bloodshot eyes in heads so wise, they queued outside the door The men whose work began right there, at Tommy’s on the moor. Hands thrust deep in pockets to betray the shaking bones Of weather-beaten fingers whence they laboured sand

Of Memories

Of Memories ballad

This is the tale that seldom gets told But remains as a legend to us all getting old. Its subject is rooted in seedy old bars And con-men who waved from their ill-gotten cars. So many people, their age-range diverse,