Family is inspirationfor Adrian's poetry

A GREAT-GRANDFATHER has won fans around the world for his heartfelt poetry.
Adrian with some of the poems he has had bound, for his familyAdrian with some of the poems he has had bound, for his family
Adrian with some of the poems he has had bound, for his family

Adrian Cutler, from Elson, Gosport, was inspired to write poetry by his first grandchild, Lisa Magnus, who is now 33.

The retired bricklayer said he was overwhelmed by love for the little bundle of joy.

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He now writes a poem a week and publishes his work on his Facebook page, garnering great reviews from around the world.

Adrian, 79, said: ‘I’ve had so much acclaim since I put them online.

‘I’ve got fans from as far away as Canada, Argentina and Australia. They love my work and beg me to write more.

‘It started with my granddaughter, I could not believe how bowled over I was by her. She was like my little shadow, we went everywhere together.

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‘When she returned after a year away in Australia I wrote a poem for her and I’ve been writing ever since.

‘My aim was to write a poem for every member of my family. The poems began to flow and they haven’t stopped. I think they are very good and people seem to agree.’

Adrian says he hopes to publish his poems in future but, in the meantime, he is happy for readers of The News to read his poems by requesting him as a friend on Facebook.

Stampede, by Adrian Cutler

A stormy morning and daylight nears,

Across the valley, a thousand steers,

Restless lowing filling the air, apprehension everywhere.

Night-time herders with weary eyes,

Rolling clouds across the skies.

Crashing thunder, a flash of light,

A thousand beasts, an awesome sight.

Streaks of lightning, rumbling skies,

A mass of beasts with fear-filled eyes.

The whole herd moving as if as one,

Panic-stricken, they begin to run.

‘Stampede!’ the frightened herders cry,

As thundering hooves go charging by.

The earth now rumbling, a booming sound,

Galloping hooves tear up the ground.

A thousand beasts all running scared, Crashing horns and nostrils flared.

The rolling thunder fills the sky.

‘Stampede!’ again the riders cry.