I started the search for the perfect poem a long time ago now. I was in my late teens I think. I just suddenly felt inspired by everything around me. I was fortunate that at that time I had the opportunity to live in two different countries as part of my studies. My senses were bombarded by new sights and experiences and of course new sounds as I fought with two foreign languages. I think being immersed first in French and then in Spanish also gave me a greater appreciation for my own language and I started to experiment in poetry. I must have been writing something new nearly every day, as I have boxes of verses written on scraps of paper of all colours and all shapes and sizes. This collection really is just a selection. I left out so much. Early poems that have survived the test of time for me include THE LADY AND THE SOLDIER which I wrote in the back of a car passing through a tiny French village in the Pyrenees when I saw a war memorial and also FORGOTTEN TOWN about an abandoned village that had been flooded for the construction of a dam again in the Pyrenees. From my time in Spain in 1988-89 THE CITY OF THE SEA about the beautiful city of Cadiz is here. More modern offerings have been inspired by my move to Spain, COUPLE IN A DOORWAY for example and of course by my children - I have included one for each of them; DAVID AND I UP ON THE ROOF and SANDRA THE BUTTERFLY PRINCESS. Who doesn't feel inspired by their children? And for my wife? I wrote A WORLD OF A HUNDRED AND ONE RAINBOWS for her a long time ago now, I couldn't decide if I wanted to be a matador or a poet. Which would impress her most? In the end she got the poet... I grew up in Kent and over the years I have revisited it many times in poetry; OVER MEDWAY WATERS PASSING NOW, A WHITE HORSE and LYING UNDER THE CHERRY TREES are all included. Which brings me, finally to my latest poem and the title for this collection: A SPITFIRE IN THE CLOUDS which I wrote for the 75th anniversary of the Battle of Britain a lot of which took place in the skies above the Garden of England. Did I find the perfect poem somewhere along the way? I hope not because that would mean the end of the search and I would like to think that every now and then I will still feel inspired to put down something in verse... the search goes on.