* AVAILABLE FROM 8TH FEBRUARY * MAKES THE PERFECT MOTHER'S DAY GIFT * HAVE A LOOK AT OUR WONDERFUL REVIEWS *
Two Bards Are Better Than One is possibly a unique debut poetry collection, as it is written by mother and son Valerie and Marc Harris, featuring 60 lighthearted, comic and reflective poems, which although similar in some ways, were written independently. From al fresco dining, shrinkflation and apes to wedding hats, potholes and the Pearly Gates, the poems cover a varied range of subjects, with illustrations by Marc. The idea for a book began with a challenge from Marc to Valerie, to write a poem about a cactus. Three months later, we had written more than 100 poems.
Our aim is simple: to entertain, amuse and uplift (with no bad language). We wish to appeal to readers who appreciate thoughtful and relatable poetry – who may also enjoy the writing style of poets such as Pam Ayres and Wendy Cope, although we are not comparing ourselves with them.
Sit back, relax and indulge yourself in this satisfying book of poetry and remember – two bards are definitely better than one.
But don't just take our word! (From full reviews):
'It's a wonderful collection full of humour, warmth, cosiness and joy. There's a poem for everyone and on every topic; from the whimsical topic of wild animals to the serious subject of the afterlife and everything in between. The poets I read include the likes of Pam Ayers, Carol Ann Duffy, Brian Bilston, Donna Ashworth - and whilst I'm not necessarily comparing them (expertise comes with years of experience) they more than hold their own.' Victoria Bucknell, Books By Your Bedside
'This charming, warm and eclectic collection is both highly entertaining and hugely relatable.' Linda Hill, Linda’s Book Bag
'Two Bards Are Better Than One is warm, eccentric, funny and occasionally surprisingly poignant. You can comfortably dip into it for a poem or two but reading several together gradually reveals something more: two people looking at ordinary life from different points along the same family line. And perhaps that is the collection’s greatest charm. It begins with the question of whether two bards really are better than one. By the final page, you may well conclude that they are.' Adrian Cork, Number 9
Available in paperback priced at £11.99, from independent bookshops, Waterstones and Amazon from 8th February. If your local bookshop does not stock it, they can order it using ISBN 978-1-0654197-0-9. (For more mature readers or those with vision issues, we have ensured that the text has good line spacing and a generous font size).
Or order a signed copy for just £9.99 plus £2.75 p & p, including a complimentary giraffe bookmark by contacting us using the form below. Surely it must be worth it just for the bookmark!
About the authors
Valerie has written poetry most of her life and Marc is a playwright, musician and artist. Six of our poems appeared in the ‘Four Seasons Poetry Anthology’ (Swaledale Festival), in 2026 and Marc’s plays have been performed in the UK and abroad. (His playwriting website may be viewed at www.theatreplays.co.uk).
Our imprint is named after John Drinkwater's delightful poem 'Moonlit Apples', which we love for its gentle imagery. For review copies, interviews or media enquiries, please contact us using the form.
Here are some poems -
Dancing
The trees are showing new beauty today –
jiving and jitterbugging
to the music and rhythm of the wind.
Wild and tempestuous.
A temporary cessation of icy blasts
results in stillness.
Just for a while,
until all trunks and branches
unite once again to continue
in the wintry, wondrous dance.
The evergreens’ performance
is outstanding. Suppleness and grace
contrast strongly with the crazy
starkness of deciduous limbs’
more robotic moves. Brown and rigid.
All in all a performance
to be applauded. And I do
as I stand at my window
and marvel.
I’m Not Quite All There
I was eight when I had my tonsils out,
They removed my adenoids too.
I hated my time in hospital –
At such a young age, wouldn’t you?
I remember little of that time.
Big moths around lights in the ceiling
And having to eat toast and ice cream
To facilitate speedier healing.
Next to come out was my uterus.
They took out one ovary too.
He took out the other to check it,
Put it back needing nothing to do.
The next thing was a lung tumour,
Increasing in size, as they do.
He couldn’t ‘get in’ without breaking a rib.
I could hardly believe that was true.
The beastly thing was benign,
I sighed with relief when I knew
But he told me that when he was in there
He removed other suspect bits too.
The latest ‘removal’ was hearty –
A brand new aortic valve – wow!
And the strangest thing I ever heard?
‘Twas from a South American cow!
At the same time I needed a bypass
To the left anterior descending.
To do this they took a good vein from my chest –
Will these surgeries be never ending?
If a surgeon asks to prise out something new,
I'd feel more than a little bereft.
Politely, I'd say "no thanks very much –
There's scarcely enough of me left."
P.S. It’s quite PC to laugh about this,
I promise, ‘cos I do
But the funniest thing of all is this –
Every word is true!
And lastly, some illustrations -
Giraffes
There are things about giraffes
which I simply really love.
I think it’s the way they move
and how they tower high above.
They’re calm and nice and quiet,
in fact they’re rather elegant,
my very favourite animal,
in second place – the elephant.
There’s nothing else quite like them,
I’m sure they’re pretty bright,
with eyelashes so very long
and a tongue that’s quite a sight.
I wouldn’t mind taking one home
but only for a day.
I’d sneak it out of London Zoo
while everyone’s away.
I’d feed it treats and walk it
on a lead for all to see.
I’d show it all the sights and sounds
and then I’d set it free.
An Angel
I thought I saw an angel,
an angel in disguise?
There was just something about her,
something in her eyes.
The way she almost glided
as she moved across the place.
A look of innocence and kindness
was imprinted on her face.
Going about her business,
breathing light into the air.
I wonder if she saw me
or sensed that I was there?
This being didn’t have wings,
at least I couldn’t see them.
Perhaps to blend in quietly
she could use them as and when.
I thought I saw an angel,
it’s difficult to explain.
If you had been there in the room,
maybe you’d feel the same.
Sometimes between wake and sleep
when lying in my bed,
I dream she visits with
a gentle kiss on my forehead.
I’ll never forget that angel,
the way she made me feel.
There’s no question about it,
I’m certain she was real.
Cherry Blossom
What could be as welcoming a sight
as a tree full of cherry blossom?
Heralding in the springtime promise
of warm, long days forgotten.
Glorious petals of beauty coloured in
just as nature had intended.
A vision to behold and to uplift,
then – a confetti carpet of contentment.