New Puppy

She snuggles with my sister

and she snuggles with my mum.

She scampers to my cousin

and she lets him rub her tum. 

She snuggles with my brother

while he watches the TV – 

but she never snuggles with me. 

She snuggles with my classmates

when they come around to play.

She snuggles in the evening

and she snuggles in the day. 

She snuggles with my father

while she wags her tail with glee – 

but she never snuggles with me. 

She snuggles all and sundry

yet for reasons I don’t know,

she will not let me pet her

so I’m sat here like a schmo. 

No nuzzles, it’s a puzzle

why my love she cannot see.

She never snuggles with me.

Joshua Seigal 

The Divorce

Throughout it all, I kept wondering how

she did it. The recalcitrant husband,

the avaricious lawyers – how did she

hold it all together? The full-time job,

the two kids to bring up – how did she

keep the plates spinning? I always imagined

the kids would be the worst of it; the need

to buttress two more lives against the weight

of all hers faced – a back breaking

harsh necessity. That was until I saw her

with them both in the restaurant, the ease

and art with which the light was flowing.

The kids are not the things that break

our backs – they are the only things,

throughout it all, that keep us going. 

Joshua Seigal 

published in The Relationship Expert

Mum's Wedding Dress

She keeps it on top of the wardrobe,

but sometimes she gathers it down.

She says we can play so we caper all day

as we totter about in her gown.

And sometimes I let my mind wander – 

the past and the future float free. 

I think of my mum all those years ago,

and wonder what life holds for me.

Joshua Seigal

THE RELATIONSHIP EXPERT - Joshua Seigal Releases Debut Pamphlet of Poetry for Adults. And it's free

Since the end of 2025, I have been working, near enough solidly, on a pamphlet of poetry for adults. I am best known as a children's poet, but this has been the direction in which my creative energies have been taking me. A handful of the poems in the collection have found their way into 'heavyweight' publications - a big shout out especially to Poetry Wales - but I was left with the question of what to do with the collection as a whole. I started off thinking I would submit it to some big publishers. I tried my luck with Faber (no word from them), and there are any number of smaller presses I could and perhaps should have considered. 

In the end, I decided the self-publish it. Not in print, but as a freely downloadable digital document, under a Creative Commons license, meaning anyone is free to download it onto their devices, in order to keep and share it with others. I don't know if this decision is very brave, or very stupid. Maybe both. Maybe I should have waited until some editor with a PhD decided in his bounteous munificence to publish what I have to offer. But I'm not really part of that world. More to the point, I have deeply personal reasons for doing it this way. My way. I could expound at length on these reasons, but for now I will say only this: life is short. Traditional publishing is a cumbersome process and we never know how long we have. The world is a precarious place. The future is not secure. I want my little document out there, in the world, for everyone. I want it to bring a tiny little bit of joy to a small fraction of people. I think it is the best body of work I have ever produced. 

Here it is, available to download for free, on this link: https://archive.org/details/the-relationship-expert-by-joshua-seigal

Here is a sample poem, below. It's one of the poems from the book I'm most proud of: 

Grandpa David 

He agrees to meet on Hampstead Heath – 

a rainy Tuesday, the branches bare. 

He unfurls his umbrella for us to share. 

I become aware of the hip flask in his pocket, 

the packet of fags lying close to his breast.

As we synchronise steps, he tells me 

it wasn’t easy. None of it was easy – 

letting his fiancée’s family believe he had

a degree; getting up every morning

and donning a suit, to pretend to my grandma

that he had a job. It wasn’t easy walking

the streets every day until the sun

went down, then returning to a woman

who he knew didn’t love him anyway.

Can you understand why I drink now?

Can you understand why I smoke?

Look, I’m sorry, he says – I’m touched that

your middle name is David. And I’m sorry

I died before you were born. Shaking

rain from brolly, taking fag from mouth,

we part ways by the gates at Kenwood House, 

and glancing back – I couldn’t swear

but I think – he reaches for the hip flask

to have just the one more drink.

Joshua Seigal

Sending big love to all!

A Word About the Bird

I reckon I’m a sea bird. 

My mind just works that way. 

I may have just convinced myself – 

I’m gullible, some say. 

Joshua Seigal

My Uncle's a Punk Rocker

My uncle’s a punk rocker. 

He thrashes his guitar.

He shouts into the microphone. 

We think he is a star. 

He has a cool mohican

and an armful of tattoos.

He wears a leather jacket.

He don’t care about taboos. 

My uncle’s got a gang of mates.

Some people find him frightful. 

To us he is an idol.

We consider him delightful.

He may not have a ‘normal’ job

like doctor or attorney.

To others he’s a reprobate. 

To us, he’s Uncle Ernie.

Joshua Seigal 

I Asked AI to Write a Poem

and do you know what?

I was actually pretty good. 

The vocabulary was nice and rich

and it scanned well too. 

It was funny, and interesting

and it made me want to read further. 

It contained a good mix

of similes, metaphors

and others kinds of figurative language. 

It was fluent and slick

and I was sure

that if I put it in a book

the readers would enjoy it.

It was, in other words,

a highly serviceable poem.

Then I deleted it

and wrote this. 

Joshua Seigal

Milk on the Window Sill

For our science project

we put a cup of milk

on the window sill.

Then we left it for a week.

We wanted to see

what would happen.

Part of me hoped something

miraculous would occur – 

rainbows sprouting through

the roof, or satyrs singing 

in majestic chorus, perhaps..

But deep down I knew

that it would turn yellow,

then go putrid, and stink,

until Miss Cartwright made us

throw it all away.

Joshua Seigal

From My Mind to Yours

These words are a gift

from my mind to yours. 

It’s not perfect, of course – 

my mind is a human mind

and these words might not

be exactly what your need

right now. But here they are. 

Human to Human. Mind 

to Mind. Take this gift, 

and know that all your devices 

might be faster, smarter, 

more slick and to the point,

But they can’t gift you this love,

from my mind to yours.

Joshua Seigal