THE HIGH CHAIR

To some it is just a high chair
But to me it’s something else
As the boys are at their wooden table,
On normal wooden chairs. 

Wyre Waters Ebb & Flow

Out along the wild Fylde Coast
Where flowing waters meet
And the River Wyre runs dry,
Where does the rolling sea go
On the ebbing of the tide?

A Werewolf in Wyre

It’s a full moon tonight
Lock up your daughters and bolt the doors tight.
Windows shuttered, doors double chained closed
To keep me in, no chance to escape down the road.