Autobiography
The Olympics
Thank God it's almost over. The end will smell of clover. Should have been blocked at Dover. As much like sport as calling Rover. Skate boards, grins...
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- 532 reads
Westope Wood Hill
(30/7/21) Steep up the hill ’til reach the woody crown, and see so far; stop and stare, let your eyes take their fill; stroll round the wood to the...
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- 1832 reads
Foxy Till Dawn
A poem about myself not being able to sleep, watching Vixen with her three pups at 3am in neighbouring garden, from my bedroom window. The brazen...
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- 7074 reads
Internet Publishing
Creative writing can often be therapeutic, to sort out confusion and regain mental balance and deliberately create a positive attitude. The following...
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- 1893 reads
My earliest memory
My earliest memory is an attempt to use writing as a therapeutic tool to get back in touch with my inner child.
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- 232 reads
Never Give Up
I wrestled this weather with snow-laden Algonquin style snow shoes climbing what seemed like a mountain of damp crystals. Determination an only guide...
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- 547 reads
Golden Memories: Sundries
No real theme to these recollections, but then that's often how memory seems to work, with strange tangential connections and unexpected associations...
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- 369 reads
Culture
Just an isolated experience to recount. But was it? I was in a large charity shop looking at stuff when I found myself ambling slowly past an orange...
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- 319 reads
Weight of a name
One of my earliest poems written in my most depressed times dealing with horrible dysphoria. I hope you like it!!
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- 378 reads
Thirsting For Autumn
Dear diary...it's weekend of the 17th and 18th July 2021. This heat is so overwhelming it leaves me drained and longing for cooler days. Call of the...
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- 3154 reads