The Nettle's Sting:
I love to feel the nettle's sting
The tingle only they can bring
Pulsing through my arm or shin
Invigorating on my skin.
This is my fourth book of rhyme.
Most of these poems were written between the winters of 2015 and 2016. 2016, particularly, was a very strange year, in which we lost so many amazing people from the world of entertainment, and a few sporting greats. In most cases, I was too flabbergasted to write any meaningful rhyme to mark the occasion.
So, is it any surprise I choose something, as the title for this book, that makes me feel so totally alive? When I was a child, getting stung by nettles seemed such a painful affair, but as I've aged, the pain is almost enjoyable. It's not even painful, just tingling. And, as I cycle along country paths and beside rivers and canals, it's not at all surprising that I should get a few stings. There are times, even, when I try to brush past the nettles, so that my forearm or shin is tickled by their delicate stems and leaves.
This book, as always, is a collection of the poems I have written over the months since I last published a book of rhyme.