Thunder In the Village

Based on personal experiences, a fictional village is coming to life in my mind. Some of these ideas are making it into an attempt at a book. Maybe, one day, the book’ll finish and I’ll see about a kindle version or something. For now, enjoying the writing and the making up of it all satsifies the craving. This piece, although not in the book, is based near the fictitious place

The Manor of the Harbour

I recently enjoyed a holiday in Cornwall.  Lovely. Whilst there I didn’t do as much writing as I thought I might. I did, however, write the odd fragment and bit – some of which I’ve stitched together and re-written for this poem. Funny how one or two phrases can capture a memory. Hopefully, one or two phrases in this poem will evoke a response in anyone who’s kind enough to

Formative decision

I’ve started writing poems that are a bit longer than previously. I’ve stopped trying to create something that fits into 9 or 12 lines, and just let my thoughts run through. So, I hope you like this latest offering. It’s about a decision I made, when I was a youngster, to take an opportunity. I understand why I made this decision.   Formative Decision School isn’t the way to spend

Drumbeats

I read this poem out at the latest Seahaven Poets open mic session in Seaford. We had a really lovely evening. Here it is:     Drumbeats Bang, to the beat of a drum, a cycle, a rhythm, driving life forward, creating a pace in life’s repetition, providing us reference to time’s frightening passage, marking the difference between now and tomorrow – time marked in birthdays, mournings, and love. Bang,

Mug

I attended an excellent poetry event last week, run by the Needlewriters group, based in Lewes.   Their event has inspired me; I haven’t written a poem for several weeks, perhaps a couple of months, and I managed to write this today.   So, here you go – a poem about my mug.     Mug Comfort-satisfaction steam-feathers my mind; my mug has this aura, a soul – a presence

Sussex Lamb

A slight departure from the poems of recent times. Based on a phrase that has been going round in my head for years, I finally realised I could make something from it. So, this is today’s offering.       When it’s over working.  When our brains’re hurting.  We head through our dour-damp lanes, in evening gloom, heads down, feet pumping, guarded against the bitter cold, with thick coats and

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