each moon has a name

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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

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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.