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.

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?

Oct 9, 2025

Thunderously Nothing 09/10/25

Morning Some people rise against the moon, some jerk awake in alarmlight, some sleep in and suddenly scream. Not me. I am greeted by...

Sep 10, 2025

Night of Nights 10/09/25

Old Lessons Look not for angelic choirs When I am borne on mountain winds. Stretch not your palms to seek me, for hands reach beside you....

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.