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The Shroud

The ethereal cloak of a misty morn It's cutting chill like daggers drawn The day to come, beyond the dawn, is hidden 'neath the gloom The...

A Prayer

I have lain for hours. Not asleep; a knotted ball of misery sits heavy in my heart. I wish I could dream, light and free. Released from...

The Nothing Day

Half-light, half bright Not quite morning, neither night The breeze is still, the birds are quiet A nothing day, an empty riot The oak...

A Christmas Rambling: a poem

In days gone by we'd be sledging down hills, and attend midnight carols to sing our goodwill. The tree was adorned with an angel and tinsel and we'd go to bed early to await Santa's jingle. There were presents to open at first sign of dawn, as we stumbled downstairs with a stretch and a yawn. A book and some colours, and the game of the day,  and the latest LP which we'd play and we'd play. After gifts in the morning (it was over quite quickly), we would eat so much dinner we

Borrowed time: a poem

We all exist on borrowed time No length determined - yours or mine The heavy cost of a sentient mind Is to know that death, our souls...

Saturday Night Fever: a short story

It was Saturday night, 8.30pm and they were in A&E. Triple whammy - a situation nobody wants to find themselves in - ever! It was going...

Wisp 'o the Wold: a poem

On the edge of the town, in the woods by the stream, sat the Wisp o' the Wold on a golden sunbeam. She was watching the damsonflies dance...

Purpose: a short story

"There she goes again." They didn't know then that she was a 'she', but something about her waddling walk reminded them of a busy woman...

If: a poem

If I were a little girl again, I'd go to the Billy Goats bridge. I'd peep underneath at the ugly old troll, then tiptoe across like a...

Breathe: a poem

I awake. I'm warm, comfortable, snug, the cat nestled in the crook of my left leg. Dreams, already memories, are drifting in and out of...

Betwixt: a poem

Early September is sent to confuse us Her split personality will often bemuse us Neither autumn nor summer, our mind's in a fix Not one...

September rain: a poem

September rain. A storm; stair-rods hurtling downwards like glass spears. Piercing the canopy at will, all life darting for cover....

The Boggart: a poem

The treacle-eating Boggart is extremely seldom spied He shies away from normal folk - their smell he can't abide. Their lying tongues can...

Slow-walking: a poem

Dedicated to Tilly who shows me a childs-eye-view every time we go for a walk x At the pace of a child the world slows down There's no...

24 hours in Lisbon

With only a 24 hour stopover on our way home, any agenda was going to be tight. Lisbon is a huge city and you could easily spend several...

Azores Adventure: São Jorge

We have seen glimpses of São Jorge from a distance for the last few days, first from Faial and then from Pico. The three islands make up...

Azores Adventure; Pico

Pico's mountain mist Shrouded in mystery aloft Glimpse of time gone by Ocean surrounding Pumice beaches, a perfect shore Lapping eagerly...

Azores Adventure: Faial

After the most amazing flight over Pico Island, we arrived on Faial. We planned to catch one of the 'regular' buses into Horta, but soon...

Azores adventure: Terciera

Terceira Island is one of the central group of the Azorean Archipelago - the third to be discovered, as its name suggests - and the bay...

Azores Adventure: São Miguel

It is our second visit to the beautiful island of São Miguel and, unexpectedly, we land during a downpour. As we cross the tarmac to the...

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