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Still The Same

. Still The Same By Paul McCann Today I thought of you and the things we used to do , what ever happened to all those people that we knew , in my...

Wilderness Way

Analogous, but a real walk too – sadly, not attempted anymore, conceding to my limits! I could still do the walk – it’s the recovery time afterwards...

coming of age in Oxford

February gives way to March slinking off with withered memories of childhood fun, schoolboy ambitions, hope-fuelled dreams adulthood lurks at the...

THE INSURANCE MAN

The Insurance man went
Cherry

Black Beauty

Black Beauty Cherish I still my childhood thrill when a tale I tell when a poem I spell then the applause despite the flaws. much of it I owe to the...

A Runaway Writer

. A Runaway Writer By Paul McCann I’m becoming invisible , watch me disappear , I can drift off into a world of my own where there’s nothing to fear...

Recycling. Upcycling. Part Three..

My name is Mrs Red Capped-Robin and my neighbour is called Mrs Jones. She’s a lovely Bird, small and not like me who like to have the latest fad, and...
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Recycling. Upcycling. Part Two.

I stood back to look at my handiwork, it was good but there was something missing. As I pondered what it was, something below caught my eye. It was a...
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Gold cherry

Hetha in the kirk

The Gore tex rustle fades, the hikers leave and I have the place to myself Me and the tattered shards of the Christ god The thick walls holding back...
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