Welcome to
Hugh Loxdale's 
Poetry

She was but a presence In the panoply of flickering time, Now viewed these many years on, A lover, like Philippa, of horses, And in her...

Some of these waves are mighty, Some of these waves are rough, Some of these waves are awesome, Some of these waves are tough. Some of...

Red, they explode outward in bold array, A riot of colour, a revolution, some might say, They exude energy sucked from the once cold...

Shellfish can be very selfish, Remaining clammed up For hours, And rarely communicating with their fellows, Except when feeding, And also...

There was a slim woman from Leeds Who had a mad passion for weeds, She watered and sowed them, Trimmed and hoed them, And was renowned...

The Leopard Slug is very handsome, Covered in smart black patches, Yet, as every lettuce knows, He very soon despatches. So be wary of...

The Warty Newt is not that cute. Rather it is wet and slimy, But also very smart in its Black and orange suit. It lives in still water,...

The Tiger, Silent as a wraith, Merges into the shadows Of the jungle. Is he there – or isn’t he? Maybe it’s just the movement Of a bird...

The Elephant is a mighty beast, It stands three metres high, And if it stands upon your toes, It’s bound to make you cry.

Poor tree, what had it done except wave its arms And look beautiful in the sun. Here songbirds sang in its lofty boughs, - Linnet,...

Hello moth, what are you up to Flying across the patio window pane with such design, Such urgency? Are you seeking the light too? A...

How I love her beyond the bright rainbow, This golden daughter of the Seasons’ care, She understands the logic of water, The fragrant...

Language is like a bird. However, it is no stuffed specimen in a glass case, staring out into the rude world with beady, brown,...

There are not many bats in Batford, Few that I have seen, On soft summer evenings When the Moon is apple green. Although the Pipistrelle...

You are my bird of paradise, The girl of my tropical dreams, Near turquoise seas and hibiscus flowers And foliage that glints and gleams....

During the quietness of the starry night, The mottled spider spins her silken net, her intricate polygonal web… To catch and ensnare...

I looked down with pity from a great height… At the dead shrew lying in the road, The quiet stretch that bends from Mackeyre End To...

She was a most rare and elusive creature, almost a figment of the mind. Or was she always real? That exquisite, brilliant, glistening,...

Stress…is like a set of Russian dolls… Or a coat of many colours and layers, Peeled off to reveal The naked man – or woman – below,...

I love you…because you love the Sea, as I do. You love its bottle-green turbulence, unwillingness to conform to our expectations,...