Author Archives: Malcolm Henshall

Saturday afternoon 35,000 sing Marching on Together, we’re going to see you win They sit, they stand, exercising their vocal chords, in solidarity against the enemy. We've been through it all together, we’ve had our ups and downs We're gonna … Continue reading →

On a walk through the squares of Leeds, we entered the one named Woodhouse. Circular, unspectacular, empty, except for the woman sat on a bench with a child in a buggy. I was for walking through, on the other side. … Continue reading →

His grass is always greener It’s like he paints it. He surely has a draughtsman to draw those lines on his lawn. He must be out there early mornings with his tape measure and spirit level. His flowers colour co-ordinated, … Continue reading →

♫ Da Da Da DaDaDa Da Da Da ♫ And in at number 10, it’s Peter and Gordon’s World without Love But do not lose hope pop pickers Because at number 9 John Lennon tells us All We Need is … Continue reading →

Their eyes met across the roses, Ethel could not believe it. She, a dinner lady, in the garden of Buckingham Palace. He could believe it. He, a Count from the House of Lords, in his element. He wandered round the … Continue reading →

She sits and looks at her child, looks with love at her child, disabled. The Mother, single, looks through laughter, then through tears. She, the one who cares. She, the one who fears. Why the fears? Because she, alone, looks … Continue reading →

You pass a woman in the street, not a second glance given, so ordinary, nothing special, But, she is a nurse, saves lives, comforts the dying. She is phenomenal. Look at her over there, dressed smartly, but no different to … Continue reading →

“You’re an angle,” the drunken man said at 3.30am, in A&E. “An angle?” the nurse replied. “You’re an angel, an angel” he slurred “Don’t suppose angels have to use food banks,” she muttered. “I clapped for you,” he said “Well … Continue reading →

If only some of the past was a foreign country. Remember that teacher that ridiculed you 60 years ago? The scars as familiar as the London streets you walked back then. No map needed to traverse the route that took … Continue reading →