Heads Up to all those lovely people who read my FB posts:Time Out Love London Awards

There seems to be a problem with the link so please just open the Time Out website and go to restaurants and you’ll find the voting box really quickly. You need to select restaurant, Sydenham and La Petite Bouchee. 

Last time you voted for us to be shortlisted, now you are voting for us to actually win!!


A promise of life arrives in the Spring,

The unfurling, uncurling of everything…

The greening of this Earth.

Summer brings a shimmering haze,

Lazy, crazy, sun-filled days,

A fleeting few months worth.

Colour characterises the Fall,

Orange, red, gold, I love it all,

Yet it’s the signal for dearth.

Winter brings a numbing chill, 

We’re freezing, wheezing, just until…

Spring’s advent and rebirth.

© Text / Image Caro Ness 2016

The Ride

We went on the ride at Washington State, 

It’s frightening, like lightning,

And bang up to date,

It has 2 giant loops of 360 degrees,

Which made me fearful and tearful,

And have wobbly knees,

It’s a whopper of a ride,

You don’t want to miss a trick, or you end up feeling sick,

‘Cause it does something cruel to your inside.

It’s a giant rollercoaster,

It’s chilling, it’s thrilling,

It makes one boast, or

As Sam said, “Let’s go again!”

 © Text Caro Ness 2016

© Image @David Palmer


I’ve walked this stretch of beach before,

This rocky, barren, savage shore ,

And it reveals one fatal flaw,

I’m grief stricken, I’m heartsore.

My head and heart fell like dominoes,

For one for whom my love just grows,

No soft caress, no sweet repose,

Just an ache that has me in its throes…

No warning that you’d pull up anchor,  

That my love would be a vicious canker, 

That for you I’d always hanker,

That my love would become a bitter rancour. 

So send your message in a bottle,

In response my skin will flush and mottle,

And I’ll wish your raft was made of whattle,

‘Cause you, my dear, I’d cheerfully throttle.

© Text Caro Ness 2016

© Image  +maricris cabrera​

Roald Dahl Day

Today is Roald Day. It would have been his 100th birthday today. All of the world will be celebrating Roald Dahl today, particularly Wales and Cardiff, the place of his birth, indeed Cardiff has been named City of The Unexpected in his honour. 
I was lucky enough to be invited to his funeral because I was working for Murray Pollinger, his literary agent at the time, responsible for the non-book rights in the UK and USA (film and TV, translation, serial rights, permissions etc.). 

A Warped Moon

There are unique times

On Earth

When the atmospheric temperature 

Colludes to warp the weather

And I was there in one of them

To watch

A warped moon rise.

Layers of cold air

Trapped below warmer ones

Refracted the light

And created 

A distorted moon.

© Text Caro Ness 2016

© Image Harald Wochner

Clearwater Beach Florida

+JPolamzKing invited me, amongst others, to pen a poem to accompany this photo by +Amanda Anna for #poetsprompt

Sand underfoot,

White, soft, powdery,

Fine as caster sugar,

Caresses the trunks

Of a line of palm trees, 

Beach umbrellas, ranked in serried rows,

Form a rainbow windbreak,

Under broken, cloud-filled skies,

Clearwater Beach, Florida

© Text Caro Ness 2016

© Text Image +Amanda Anna

The Mountain

The town grew up

In the shadow of the mountain

Each white-washed house

Cocooned in lush vegetation 

One long main road

The artery holding the town together

And connecting town to mountain

And the lake that lay

To its leeward side

From my vantage point

Above the town

The town seemed suspended

In the clouds which

Flocked to the mountain side

And to bask in the late summer sunshine

© Text Caro Ness 2016

© Image +Mai​​ via Instagram: @jpolamzking

Delancey Street

*© JPolamzKing asked me to write a poem to accompany this photo by  +Lynn Terry​ for #poetsprompt Here it is:

Whenever I drive through Claremont 

And turn from Frobisher Lane

Into our street

My heart leaps 

And skips a beat

I am coming home

There’s the tree 

I used to sit in

To watch the comings and goings      

At our neighbours, the Browns

Particularly young girls 

Visiting Nat 

Their son

Captain of the rugby team 

With the looks to match 

And the long low

Reassuring silhouette 

Of our house

With its perfectly

Manicured lawn

Nummber 64

Delancey Street

© Text Caro Ness 2016

© Image +Lynn Terry​


+Maricris Cabrera and +James Polamz King both very kindly suggested that I write a poem to accompany this wonderful photograph by permission of +Irene Riz  for #poetsprompt
I was late and so I hurried,

Everywhere I looked,

There were clocks,

So I was always aware,

Of time passing,

Each second,

Each minute.

Statues, adorning the rooftops,

Lined along the ridges,

Seemed to stare down,

Mocking me,

In my blind, infectious panic.

I was late, so I imagined,

A huge, ghostly clock,

Imprinted on the sky,

The hands moving slowly,

Around its face,

Marking my transgression.

I was late,

And I so knew it.

© Text  Caro Ness 2016

© Image +Irene Riz