Life is a one-horse town and I've got a boil on my bum.

Michael James Treacy

A retired septuagenarian, Michael James Treacy lives in idyllic bliss with Mrs Treaclechops and spends his time in literary, artistic and horticultural endeavours. He has a wonky leg, a dicky ticker and a dizzy head. A working life spanning 50 years included such disciplines as soldier, sales engineer, design engineer, estimator, buyer, quality manager and project manager. He was glad of a good sit-down at the end of it all. He’s had poems and short stories published in various magazines and anthologies, and has been working on his debut sci-fi novel for about 10 years, and hopes to finish it before his 100th birthday.
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Michael James Treacy is known inside the Colony as mickleinapickle

Ripening Cherries

An anthology of Japanese-style poetry

An anthology of haiku, tanka and haibun poetry published by Offa’s Press. I have three haiku featured on page 14.

“ This delightful anthology will draw you into another world, the minimalist world of Japanese poetic forms ”

For Rhino in a Shrinking World

A Poetry Anthology

An international poetry anthology published by The Poets Printery of South Africa to highlight the plight of the rhino and its environment, and to raise funds for anti-poaching units. Contributions from poets worldwide. My poem, ‘When We Shot The Last Rhino’, is featured on page 84.

“ The poets who have contributed to this book forcibly bring to mind the terrible plight of the rhino in the modern world. ”

Soul Feathers

A poetry anthology to aid the work of Macmillan Cancer Support

Published by Indigo Dreams. Includes poetry by Carol Ann Duffy, Bob Dylan, Maya Angelou, Seamus Heaney, Sharon Olds, Leonard Cohen, Benjamin Zephaniah. My poem, ‘She Explained’, is featured on page 196.

“ Soul Feathers is a book full of hope and high art which restores all faith in poetry. It is full of beautiful writing which relates directly to human experience. ”

Don’t Call On Me

. Cold winds blow through city streets as winter’s grip takes hold and grey souls in downbeat worlds retreat to lies untold. . Rain-lashed pavements...
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Christina

. At first encounter, she slapped my backside and declared, “I don’t recognise that bottom!” . Then she skipped away on one of her missions...
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About It All Again

     December 1973... a village called Oberjoch (over the hill) in the Bavarian Alps. Six feet of snow! I was learning to ski with...
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A naturalist of beings real and fictional
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