Category Archives: Poetry

published in the cannon’s mouth

Two of my poems, Misted Sound and Fob Watch have been published in the December issue of The Cannon’s Mouth. If you’ve not read them before, please check out the poems below, previously published on this site.




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i made a boo

I made a boo.

Start again

stick together with glue.

But before you walk

don’t forget

what’s stuck under your shoe:

Fragments of love

that were broken

by you.

You made the boo.

I made a boo:

walking around

I ran into you

And saw you there

holding another

girl through.

Waiting around

to see if this girl

will do.

Hoping that

you’ll come back

to me soon.

I made a boo,

and that boo was you.

Copyright Giorge Thomas

** published by Nineteen-O-Splash and Fresh Magazines

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Kidwelly Castle



Grass carpeted the grounds at Kidwelly.

It was so green and so fine


That by appearance it seemed to be fine velvet.

A green tattoo that did not allow me to see


Back hundreds and hundreds of years

To barn animals, foot-soldiers, peasants,


Straw-covered, manure-covered and filth-

Covered ground.


Standing there among the green I felt peace and tranquillity,

At odds with the hustle and bustle from the past.


If I were Queen I’d prefer the green of the lawn,

And I’d rope it off with little signs: “Keep Off The Grass”.

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Filed under Photography, Poetry, Travel

laugharne: the home of dylan thomas

Dylan Thomas' Boathouse; Laugharne


On our recent trip to Wales we drove to Laugharne to visit the home of Dylan Thomas. As you can see by the pictures, it really is the most beautiful place in the world. Dylan Thomas’ boathouse was one of the most inspiring places I’ve been to. Whilst there I wrote the poem below, Misted Sound. I hope you enjoy the poem and the pics.





Misted Sound 


You can breathe by the sea of the stars

And the sun

And the overhanging clouds

That envelope the soul

The mind

And the eyes that see.

You can wait by the tide

As the gulls

Sing your tune

As the wind whips your


And mist freshens your face.

You can lose yourself

In the sand

In the marsh

By the cliffs

And to the sea

But you will not drown

In Dylan Thomas’


His voice is heard miles

Round not just here

In this misted sound.


© giorge thomas

Another spectacular, yet daunting view of Laugharne


Filed under Photography, Poetry, Travel




Dirty, filthy storm water

Trying unsuccessfully

To resemble a suburban


Two shifty

School-aged children

Paused near the truck.

It is school holidays

And their desperation

To cause mischief

Is paramount.


© giorge thomas

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fob watch


A grey mood perpetrated the inner

Workings of each fob. They ground

Slowly to a halt, each tick, tick, tick

Lasting longer than a minute.


They should have been


Brought to life with vigor

From a tiny key

– one size fits all –

Turn, turn, turn.

Instead they lay dormant



By old ways

By old people

By tens of eyes that watch

Them every day

Passing them over

As inconsequential moments

Of a past much less

Like today

Where turning your wrist

Is work enough.


ⓒ giorge thomas

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