Spirits lift And skies drift. And pebbles poke. Puddles light And kites bright. And mountains rope. Dunes drift And shadows shift. And shorelines cope. Waves crawl And feathers sprawl. And seagulls boat. Rocks still And gulls bill. And spirit’s spoke… […]
It was blowing a gale the day that we walked intent on climbing the Worm’s Head, but the force of the wind on causeway of rocks, combined with the tide, saw our plan dead. To Rhossili we turned to further […]
Overnight, the mist stole in like a thief and now only innuendo and gist dress the spartan view beyond the window. Its gossamer threadbare veil, billowing with the breeze, snags upon the hedge and trees, revealing occasional brief glimpses as […]
Snow puffed hedges And cobwebbed trees. White night daylight And cold face breeze. Sun gazed lanolin And trough full fill. Anoracked hooves And grass pulled chill. Deep squeak boots And cold foot frown. March square up And slow step down. […]
Swallowed Perfume and Lesser Roses Autumn’s silver song Hums light. And dappled apples Fall; pecked and dropped. Cobwebs spread And spiders flick And tick away tiny leaves. Butterflies fade And gentler flowers Close their eyes To the quieter days of […]
My rock is my might. My light. My night. My sea is my ore. My awe. My core. My sky is my Sight: my bright. My law. My sand is My hand. My land. My door. ———— Words & illustration: […]
Fair waved her slender light brown arms, a soft and tender flow of waves as if the soft and tender need of heart was gently singing in her veins- her fingers fluttered, feathers caught in breeze of mind where search […]
We stroll once more down arbored avenues, hands overlapped and clasped against the chill; our talk drifts like woodsmoke over the ‘still sad music of humanity’ subdued as a radio droning in another room. So, it is time to take […]
On the first day of Christmas my new love gave to me a lift to the station, on oat milk skinny latte, a text with smiley faces, and, as I seemed like the kind of bird who wouldn’t mind, one […]
Austere the arches heaven pointing above rowed chairs where are expected the coming Sunday’s congregations: north aisle has frozen hanging standards of loyalty and deeds historic: while visitors eye Shepherd-Saviour enshrined in sun-stained coloured window, here moves a priest in […]
It’s lonely on this platform: in fact, everywhere is bare: bring passing rails no comfort as if they lie not there. How will I pass my waiting in early evening gloom? I know – I’ll learn to speak that name […]
The Brunels’ dock, mud silted dock, long since departed entry lock, a floating harbour they had planned not far from Aberavon sand, by power station overlooked, round which the Welsh Coast Path is hooked near remnant jetty being used, industrial […]
