Frank Wood was born in Preston, Lancashire in 1925 and was a Radio Officer in the Merchant Navy during the war. He started the Preston Poetry Workshop with poet Jim Burns in 1970 and was joint founder of Ipswich Poetry Workshop in 1974.
A prize winner in a number of poetry competitions, for the last thirty years of his life his work appeared widely in the small press. His poems are wry, quirky and unpredictable. They can move the reader to laughter at one moment, tears the very next.
Frank died in October 2020, at the age of 95.
Sorry this lovely pamphlet has raced past the stable clock and away: we are sold out.
Blood on the floor
There’s blood all over the floor, said my father
as we came through the door.
There’s a steak and kidney pie in the oven,
said my mother.
Go and wash your hands.
But what about the blood,
we asked, where’s the blood?
There isn’t any, said my mother.
Nor is there a pie, said my father.
You’ll have to have fish and chips.
One disappointment after another—
that was our childhood.