First Flowers of Spring

Here are the first spring flowers in my garden.
Simple hellebores, rising up from the mud, unspoilt by the wind and rain, and
looking so beautiful.

sleeping on the radiator

a warm metal bed,
it's good, if you can relax,
and if you're furry

Merry Christmas!

december

-->

december

the garden has

closed the door

drawn the curtains and

shut me out

I have to wait

buying a typewriter

Riding in the Summer.

-->

a bonfire sent smoke over the hedge

and across the grass path

sunshine made stripes

through branches and leaves

we were shadows

riding in and out of the light

held in the present moment by

voices and hoofbeats

-->

Hitch hiking - How to Cope WIth Mud

-->

 if ever you’re standing

before a big mud patch

and you need to cross it

but  you’re wearing the wrong shoes,

it’s possible to stick out your thumb

and so attract the attention of

a passing hippo

who will give you a safe ride on its back.

However, as payment

it will bite off your thumb,

so you can only ever have

two hippo rides in your life,

and if you take them both,

you’ll need to cope without thumbs.

Autumn into Winter

autumn tree -
red leaves discarded
shrugging off the year

On seeing my cat sitting in a leafless tree

Jack! have you noticed

the leaves have all blown away?

you are not concealed!

Jack Frost

-->

-->

 Let me

Touch your fingers,

Nip your nose,

Creep round your red ears,

Pinch your stamping toes,

Crick crack.

Let me

Draw white lines

On your window panes,

And freeze the water

That drips down the drains,

Crick crack.

Let me

Paint your grass

With my frozen hand,

And shiver through the branches

That leafless stand,

Crick crack.

Let me                                                                               

Cloud your breath,

As you walk along fast,

I’m your frosty friend,

Until Winter’s past,

Crick crack.

These photos were taken in this week - last year.

A Haiku For My Cat

perfectly balanced

he sleeps across my shoulders

tail wrapped round my neck

under a blue moon

brushstrokes sweeping over maps

half folded on the untidy table,

pages merge on the silvered canvas,

boundaries slide,

roads are unfurling,

mountain and valley liquid now,

towns flow and swish,

a new landscape shimmers,

and its happening outside too.

Humpty Dumpty and the Forest of Doom

Humpty gazes at the celery forest.
All he has to do is jump down off the wall,
then he can go and explore.

each moon has a name

-->

twelve regular moons and one extra

old moon snow moon

crow moon

grass moon planting moon

rose moon

hay moon green corn moon

harvest moon

hunters moon frosty moon

                                                   long night moon

                                                   blue moon
thank you Lynette for the beautiful image

Blue Moon at the Map Shop

This is the first of a series of poems about what happens when there is a blue moon. Can you see the man in the photo, tiptoing away with his hands above his head?

 

places

the map shop owner is a collector,

pencil whispering into his notebook

 Brobury Bredwardine Blakemere

he breathes the boredom of shopkeepers past,

 Kingstone TybertonTurnastone

in paper dusk the maps wait on crowded shelves,

Wormbridge Winforton Whitney

nothing happens here until the blue moon,

      Lower Welson Stretton Sugwas

            Pipe and Lyde

Not Far from the Wolf

Cerberus
A huge quantity
of dribble on the floor at
feeding time - down boys!

Anubis
He protects the Dead,
But they're quite self-sufficient,
It's not a hard job.



The photo is Scrumpy, the first dog I got to know well. He lived at the stable yard, stole food, and bit people. He's biting angels now.

Sea Dogs at the Swansea Music Festival. Argh!

What a villainous crew!

Students from WCMD,
and in front composer
Gareth Wood,
conductor Kevin Price,
and me - at the Brangwyn Hall
in Swansea,  after a rampaging
performance of Sea Dogs as part
of the Swansea Music Festival, in
association with Ty Cerdd.

What a great day!
More performances are planned.
Stand by your hammocks!

Performing my own story, illustrated with such great music, played so well - perfect.

Riding Down the Hill - view from the Horse's back

This would have been a familiar view for many 
people before the motor car came along. 
I took this photo with my phone a few 
weeks ago, as Tom and I came down the hill. 

I think the view from the saddle is the best in the world.

Autumn

-->

First frost

Now is the time when

the day slides in on

bright morning sun,

slipping along the

silver drops on spider’s webs

and

gleaming blades of grass,

breathing deep the cold air,

feeling the change of leaves

and light,

Beginning to forget the summer,

and accepting

the promise

of the

first frost

A Day with my cat Jack

I've had a whole day at home with my cats, and I realised something I haven't done

Jack

He rears up to touch my hand

        with the top of his head,

He is portly

smooth furred

dressed like a butler

and there’s a white smudge on his nose,

He is an anxious cat,

He’s always home.

He is the guardian of this house,

I don’t thank him enough.

 

All of a Sudden it's Summer again

-->

 High Tide

The fields are flooded with sunshine,

It swirls through parched corn,

Washes over dusty hedgerows,

Drenches weary trees,

Dripping into trembling shade.

A tide of heat drowns the land,

Every living thing submerged,

Slow and breathless in the golden ocean.

There is nothing to do but wait,

Wait for the tide turning,

And the slow ripples of night.


This is a summer poem really, but today was just like this. I took the photo a few weeks ago at the edge of a cornfield where the farmer hadn't sprayed, and it was filled with wild flowers and poppies. I didn't realise the hoverfly was there until I looked at the image later.

Sea Dogs. A Musical Experience.

 The Jolly Roger flew from the flagpole of St Asaph Cathedral to celebrate the first performance of
SEA DOGS - A PIRATE TAIL today. It was a real pleasure to perform my words with Gareth Wood's music  which is  for symphonic brass and percussion. Needless to say, the front couple of rows of children had their hands over their ears for the very loud bits!

As you can see, I looked rather fetching in my pirate outfit, surrounded by some villainous types.

Trouble with Squirrels

Do squirrels hibernate? I hope so. Did you know Squirrel Nutkin's brother was called Twinkleberry? Perhaps that's why they are so cross.

-->

nuts

 fixed with furious eyes

too angry to blink

straight backed

tail quivering with rage

screeching and screaming

before rushing away.

I’ve been threatened by three of them now

and in the same manner,

 one squirrel on a garden wall

 one on a forest branch

 one in the tree outside my room

Rehearsing for a World Premiere! Yo ho

The Jolly Roger will be flying over St Asaph Cathedral at 11am on 27th and 28th September 2011 for the first performances of Sea Dogs - a Pirate Tale, as part of the North Wales International Music Festival.

It's a piece for narrator, symphonic brass and timpani. It was commissioned by Ty Cerdd. I wrote the words and am going to narrate, and Gareth Wood wrote the music.

 The Cathedral will be filled with children, I think they're all going to be dressed as pirates, along with the musicians and myself. It's going to be noisy, shipmates, and huge fun. 

I can't think of anything better as a writer than to perform my words to wonderful music before a large audience of over excited children!

I am going to a rehearsal on Sunday, but have been rehearsing at home, and also making myself a costume, and a pirate tote bag to carry my score.

International Talk Like A Pirate Day

Ahoy shipmates - Tis International Talk Like a Pirate Day. I will be celebrating by wearing a banana round my neck, as I don't have a bandana. It's a little early to have a tot of rum, so I thought I'd have a bagel and some fruit instead. Anchors aweigh.

A Very Brief Extract From my Romantic Novel!

                             He edged a trifle closer

Riding with Swallows

I was riding round a huge stubble field this morning, and as we trotted along the long hedge, we were joined by three swallows. They swooped low around Thomas's legs, and in front of him, looping round and back, with a little flip of wings and an occasional chirp. Thomas wasn't afraid of them, even when one swooped beneath him. I could look down on their backs, and clearly see shining dark blue feathers, and the very compact shape of shoulders and wings. They flew with us twice round the field, even when we cantered. When I walked Thomas at the end so he could stretch his neck and cool down before we returned to the yard, the swallows swished round us once more and then up and away. I thought of the journey the swallows will soon start, and how my horse and I, and the big field, will still be here when they return in the spring.

wet through

-->

 raindrops

what if they were words,

vocabulary from clouds

soaking your skin,

sliding off your coat as it dried,

whispering onto the kitchen floor,

 there’s still a few stuck

in the seal of the fridge door.

a storm might bring you

a whole story,

beginning middle end

if you stood and waited,

     imagine 

                          uncertain

  I feel as

                    happily ever

                                        omelette

Cats as household gods

                                  Cats go their own way, and aren't really very reliable.

                                       Here are two short verses about cats from mythology. 
                                               I always felt a little sorry for Freya.


Freya                                                                    Bastet
oh, imagine the                                                     gentle, domestic,
inconvenience of a                                                protecting the house from mice
chariot drawn by cats                                            by crunching them up -->

Coping with the Trees

I love typing errors.
In a recent email I typed I am only just coping with the trees, which is so much more interesting than with the stress.

Jack was liking his paws was another I was pleased with, as my cat does rather like himself.

Best of all was in a recipe, when I typed Make sure you take the butler out of the fridge in plenty of time. Essential advice, I am sure you will agree.

Harvest Time

 I remember the year the fullstop harvest failed. No conversations were finished, and not one novel ended. Anyone found separating an ellipsis faced a heavy fine, and letterpress practitioners were hunted down and robbed. 

Everyone was exhausted by the end of the year.

Poets survived best, and babies were unaffected.

2011 the year of cake

 recipes

 more cake than you can imagine

I am imagining lots

I am imagining a crumb

hey – put it on a plate and sing it a song

find another crumb and they can fall in love

and perhaps one day you’ll find a 

cookie on the plate

or a slice of cake

A Good Breakfast

Here is an excellent way to start the day. On waking, sit up immediately and write down the first three words that come into your head.The trick is not to think about it, and just let the words happen. Surprising trios emerge.

I  then try to make a haiku, where each word is included in a different line. This morning I wrote   paw   duvet   window.
I can't see it being my most exquisite poem.

What the well prepared poet needs to survive

SECRET CODES!

Every poet should have one for everyday use, or perhaps for prose purposes only. My secret code is to reverse vowels in a word when they appear together. Here’s an example;

in the raeding arae

a librarain sat

in a craeking chair,

no cushoin to protect

her posteroir from

the hard wood.

Pretty good, ay? I hope you can work out what it says. The final word’s vowel reversal is particularly subtle.

 Or you could just typeset everything and NOT print it. Then only the truly left-handed would know what you were saying.