Within our club we have ourselves a resident poet. Jim who is 82 years old finds great pleasure in his poems and therefore it is only fair that we share them with you as well.

-"Roman it isn't, it's not green enough. Treasure trash not treasure trove,  tough to defaced heads be they ever so rough. On it's own, not a grot. Hammered it is not. Small as benefits the spot. I know it's a CKW, it's a Christ Knows What!"-

-"Round the field near the edge, bet the trash bucket beats iron slung into the hedge. We spider walkers over the tilth we wonder, it gives up it's hoarded wealth but not to order. Random is as random does, but a nice find does give a buzz."-

-"Winter has not lost it's greys, on the twice, thrice weekly trips. Luck might bring you an English groat, if the rain works around your throat. Eight thirty, do we go, to the island rural electronic show."-