Home | The Ramble

This is a collection of deeply serious and straight faced poetry.
This is not the notebook based ramblings of a copywriter who likes long words.
That would be silly.
If you got lost and want to see our ad portfolio, you'd better click here.

Dogs In A Sunlit Park

Flying fur and joyous paws,

bringing fun to those outdoors.

Big and small and thin and fat,

who could help but smile at that.

Chasing, darting, bouncing balls,

echoing barks off low park walls,

why take your lunch indoors?

When joy roams free on just four paws.

A Friend Remembered

We had not talked for year on year,

but I thought to come and meet you here,

to ask to know of days I missed,

of friends estranged and lovers kissed.

I thought to meet one warm spring day,

to share a drink and while away,

yet here I stand in sunshine's shadow,

as Sunday wanes and daylight narrows.

Awaiting someone I fear I've missed,

expecting a step, a laugh, a smile,

for a friend like them,

I think I'll sit and wait a while.

Sunday

I'm gaming inexpertly,

all hands and no thumbs.

She's four blankets deep,

asleep with a dragon.

The air is warm with lamplight.

She sniffles, the nest shifting,

a hand appears, is clasped,

and fetches a smile.

It's Sunday and it's late,

endings are catching trains,

but not for now,

minutes are forever yet.

Feb 10

Today It Rains, Tomorrow It Won't 10/02/26

Ern I did not like cats, for I did not know cats. Then I met this rumbling diesel-powered shadow. All eyes and vibrations, attached to some teeth. He won’t say we’re friends, that would be pushing it. He tolerates my being, when he greets me at all. He’ll stretch out a paw, like a caesar of old, or yowl out a curse and retreat to his throne. His throne is my chair, and now I have moved, for he gets what he wants and he’s sitting there. He gives me the eye, as if to enquire, s

Feb 8

Restart 08/02/26

Plans Tomorrow we’ll see the world, and today we’ll pack our bags. We’ll check the weather, and empty our pockets, for what if it rains? What if it’s cold? I haven’t packed gloves, your boots are all worn, and we just aren’t prepared. What about Wednesday, if tomorrow won’t work? We’ll order it all, and wait for it here. No, today it must be, you’ll just have to trust or possibly forgive me. Out we will go, come rain or come shine, for I’ll still be yours, and you’ll still be

Dec 21, 2025

Moving And Stopping 21/12/25

The station Partings and greetings, laughter and longing, it's nobody's home, and yet it's always thronging. There's friends who shout curses, and foes who yell praises, standing beside skull faces grim reapers who meet you with daisies. Here it all happens, and there it's all known. This last stop you'll see on your journey home.

Dec 17, 2025

Again, again 17/12/25

Sunday's I'm gaming inexpertly, all hands and no thumbs. She's four blankets deep, asleep with a dragon. The air is warm with lamplight. She sniffles, the nest shifting, a hand appears, is clasped, and fetches a smile. It's Sunday and it's late, endings are catching trains, but not for now, minutes are forever yet.

Nov 13, 2025

Day to Day 13/11/25

Meet and Greet They tell me you're a creative, ads and that stuff. Well more stuff than just ads. So what do you do? Mostly I sell- Oh really what stuff? Things you know, bits for the house- I have a flat. Right. So what do you do, do you even know? Really? Seriously. I suggest ridiculous ideas to talented people, on the bad days they laugh, on the good days they don't. So what day is this? I haven't a clue, but please tell me this, when did you last buy anything new?

This is a collection of deeply serious and straight faced poetry. This is not the notebook based ramblings of a copywriter who likes long words. That would be silly. If you got lost and want to see our ad portfolio, you'd better click here.