This week I got hold of a copy of the new Chester Poets Anthology, ‘Fragile Things’.  There are 5 of my own poems in it, so I am now a published poet, for the first time.  We are having a book launch event at the Commercial Hotel in St. Peter’s Courtyard, Northgate Street. Chester at 7-30pm on Monday 8th April (This coming Monday!) There will be lots of poetry readings, and a chance to get hold of a copy of the book.  So, I thought I’d post a couple of poems on this blog to aquaint you with some of my work. Here’s one that came purely from the top of my head –


Baby started walking
going downstairs
to listen to himself
sleeping in the bedroom.
The electronic noise of
the surveillance device
kept him awake.
Mummy and Daddy were
nowhere to be seen
watching TV.

Baby picked up the remote
flicked through channels
settling on a
married couple in bed
naked as newborn
stroking each other
making funny noises.
Baby groaned
recognising the pair.

(c)2017 Shem Sharples

And here’s one I wrote in St. Ives, Cornwall, in October 2017.

St Ives Harbour

The sweat flat silt sand
ripples glint of sun
trickle water round beached rudders
ropes, floats, hulls, cabins, wheels
gulls swoop with Stukas’ wings
around Smeaton’s Pier.

White dove pecks the air in front
pattering among feet
in hope to excavate a treat
from pock-marked concrete quay.

Beach roamers meander
across tide-recessed sand
nearby wellies
slop silt.

Gulls sound sirens
wheeling waving
wind fuzzles
yuccas wobble
some gulls silent in stealthy swirls
others croak and grunt.

A pushchair pulls a mother
along the wobbly sand sweat
a dog trots, pausing
to wet an orange buoy.

Chains clink
ropes rubble and creak
mallets bonk and fishermen call
through harking wind.

Waves slash rocks, haw
tumbling surfers zip and crash
waters futter, hiss and swoosh great surges
and collapse in whitewash foam
bold rocks sit there, arms folded
Beach stripes away
wavering wash lines
creep and slink back.

(c) 2017 Shem Sharples

I got a copy of ‘Fragile Things’ in my hands, at last!