I’ve recently been trying to maintain a habit of writing every day. Whether it be free writing, poetry, my journal (though I don’t keep that every day ) my travel book – yep, I’m working on one of those too, and less often at the moment, this blog. With the writing comes lots of reading… Continue reading Political with a small ‘p’
I wrote this for my son about 10 years ago. Crocus 1 I threw you high and laughed at your delight, and higher still, till fear, sleek in it’s disguise, stole time in handfuls and we stopped. Or I did. Heading for home our Spitfires, all pencil ‘tash and lady killers, flew raids into head-on… Continue reading Crocus
As part of London 2012 Festival, the cultural side of having lots of people run around a track as fast as they can, renowned theatre director Deborah Warner has been commissioned to create an installation encircling the coast of Britain. There will be a series of tented encampments set at some of our most beautiful… Continue reading Donne and dusted.
Just thought I would have a go at the 100 Word Challenge that is really 50 this time. Here’s my effort – the prompt being “the autumn leaves“ “Dig?” Harry tweaked a tuning peg to ease his irritation. Flute looked across and grinned. She knew he hated that. Harry smirked and raised his eyebrows.… Continue reading “Dig?”
I’ve been thinking recently about the differences between poetry and song lyrics and posing the question when one works and where another won’t. Anyway, I’ll cogitate and spew forth on that later but for now I thought I would post up the lyrics for a song I have just finished. My songwriting is a steady process. I’m… Continue reading Copper River
My father is not a vocal man, as a rule, except that he can still be fired up by the excesses of politicians or, on occasion, the injustices shown to fair minded men. Indeed, when I recall any in-depth conversation we might have had over the years then these are the topics which crop up… Continue reading What did you get from your father?
………..Parquel flicked over his daytaday data flicker. “01.01.3011” he said to himself. “Another New Year. Here we go again. Hop on for the riiide.” He pulled on his new OverJer , the one with the diamonds on that golfers wore apparently some 100 years ago. Or was it 150? He was never quite sure. He… Continue reading Parquel gets a hit…………