An old poem
(an old poem) Left too long in the shell almost, touching. Shrivelled apricots almost, sweet. Dried-up peanuts without stones. Fit…
Writer and Artist
(an old poem) Left too long in the shell almost, touching. Shrivelled apricots almost, sweet. Dried-up peanuts without stones. Fit…
When the fallen leaves remind you that Summer’s gone And the days are getting short and the nights are getting…
I can’t do anything better than anecdotal and observational so I might be wrong and I can’t be bothered to…
A few short poems about birds from my last poetry collection Blodyn Robin Pecking up the scraps of…
This is an extract from Beats, the second novel in the Bums, Beats, and Bones trilogy. Bums has already been…
Blog: From Web Log, From ‘Logging your thoughts and activities on the World Wide Web’ Once upon a time there…