Read

A playlist that takes me back to my youth.

THUS SPOKE CHORKIE WALKER Of the Three Metamorphoses ‘I name you three metamorphoses of the miniature teddy bear: how a mass-produced toy shall...

Santa lets loose in the psychiatrist's office.

Don't take room 217, they told me But that was the last one left 'First right, then wrong ', said the receptionist. 'Don't you mean left?' , I said...

Evidently drunk on Life, the bottled kind, a streetcorner Pavarotti remixes arias, Oblivious to the masses, shopping blind, hands held high, his Ave...

concealing sweetness spreads white, on all made before lushly sheltering birds' first food in next year's store

I look out every day onto a row of four very old willows, which probably grew next to a drainage ditch before it was piped and built over to make the road I live on. ++++ Rachel's trees series inspired me to write about them, but I felt it a bit cheeky to post a poem until they became a subject for the IP ++++ Photo of two of them taken with my iPhone

Tied wild tamed by gold spray fussily ossified bright red in gloss green sway where feasting blackbirds ride

Breaking News! Karl Maquinghen, the fisherman who gave the alert of the bodies floating on the sea, has twenty-one years’ experience on the sea, want...