FABLES from the GREAT NORTH WOOD
NEW YEAR, NEW BOOK A sequence of 12 short storieS for two or more voices Original cover art by Nomis 150pp ON SALE WITH EBAY FOR £9.99FREE POSTAGE AND PERSONAL INSCRIPTION here is how it starts . . .ONE: BLACKHEATHI – Before the BeginningPond Mount. Blackheath....Christmas 2020
There may be snow this year, and icicles; crunchy footsteps, misty breath and bubbles in puddles under frost-frozen glass; crystals may sparkle in winter-white grass. Like when fresh-fallen snow blankets the ground, pure Christmas love is quietly profound; and, as...
The Dairy
Hospital-clean, the cold-washed concrete floor drains towards the middle, flushing muck to sluices. Wide galvanised sliding doors hang on corrugated wall panels tucked under impermanent eaves. Strip lighting — and hydraulic noise from electric pumps attached to...No Words Today
Just poetry of springtime in the...
Rhapsody in Pink
For a few moments, maybe some minutes,let’s dreamy drift into the feather crushof London’s clouds of cherry blossom bliss. The buds, which season-swell with ruby flush,fill as racing pulses fill impatientflesh with rhapsodical urges to burst. Then Beauty comes...
Winter Again
As winter ends, winter starts again. Late March warmth lies with coughs and fever, face-grey shadows darken longer days, and high-sky sun shines on windowless wards. Hospital green is the season’s colour. Garden foxes play in rose-dawn light, rising doubt hangs in...
Sonnet
Nights are the worst: dark acres of time areunfilled with anything but low noiseas cars burr along the northbound carriageway. Mum is cold, anxious in unsettled grief.There’s no point getting up: without him there’snothing to do. Days see diversions butnow, why does...The Calm before the Quiet
It is pretty ugly between Gravesend and Stone Crossing. Puzzling through Rosherville,to Northfleet’s exhausted ragstone quarry,Kimberly Clark is making Andrex. At Ebbsfleet, the footpath runs in zigzagsspanning voids and empty strips of railwaybehind galvanised...Cliffe to Gravesend
Same train, same bus, same strange metal giraffes.This, though, is different. The storm wind is armed:tiny water dumdums, as hard as ice,spear and splay, needling my defenceless face. Plastic mud-larky litters the foreshore:old rope, smashed flowerpots and bookies’...Find out more about the business side at
