Rich Uridge

Rich Uridge

Training company boss by day. Poet and a whole heap of other things by night. Plus the son of a mother who was killed in a care home while living with dementia.

Twiglets

Photo of a blackbird by Stephen Emery wildlife

I believed you when You said their legs were made from Twiglets. I wish I still did. We were one blackbird with two wings back then. But I’ve been flying around in circles ever since You flew the nest Leaving…

I say goodnight

Photo of red roses

A poem for Valentine’s Day I say: goodnight I love you. You say: I love you more See you in the morning. But there will be a time There will be a time When the night is not good And…

Three kinds of light

Photo of Brian and Sheila Uridge leaving for their honeymoon

A walking stick, a deadly arc Your face unstitched and come apart. The dying light’s the deepest dark It casts a shadow, leaves a mark. A finger painting just in red A rainbow arched beside your bed. No treasured end,…