Someone moved the goalposts while I was not looking so my well- aimed kick at crossbar drifted tamely into touch . Fervent , red – faced referee blew hard upon his whistle and brought the game to a halt though all those others kept on playing scoring tries from their own pitch half . [...]
On a dark December afternoon daylight was about to disappear and an eager moon begun to re -assert itself behind fast – moving slivers of grey , sullen cloud . I levered it from the soil severing the ground – level cord connecting it to it’s parent . More in hope than expectation , [...]
I always had the idea that I saw one on a weekday winter evening out in the car with my parents . I heard it’s salutary screech through closed windows . I noticed it’s flat round head and it’s white wings beating wildly . I marked it off in my bird book kept the memory [...]
Sowbread and Saffron sat side by side on a sublime , sun- bathed September afternoon in an unspoilt , country mill – house garden safe from modern – day ravages and attention paid to the latest flower of the month . Lanky stems of herbaceous perennials their plumed petals petering out , watch bold , [...]
The fat fly- fed spider of September legs spread motionless on the close knit strands of his wide web woven from within so intuitively the centre of his world . No – one noticed him on hot , sweaty summer days , but there he was under cover planning his movements. For a few short [...]
In March 2010 after a false start seven years earlier , Sarah Joyce signed to Atlantic Records and changed her name to Rumer . During last summer ‘Slow ‘ a haunting ballad of unrequited love was heard reqularly on Radio2 and Smooth Radio . It’s hypnotic melody and triple – tracked chorus made a strong impression [...]
We spent at least part of one night together an hour suspended between deep , healing sleep and another days familiar comforting dawn . Hanging on to a golden crescent , you cascaded love – hearts down upon me from shimmering moonbeams . They permeated windows , drifted around my supine body and filled the void which [...]
The smuggler path winds it’s way around the base of Denne Hill . Worn and sunken from ramblers footsteps and pock- marked by boots of schoolboy cross – country runners . Two hundred years ago brigands hurried along the track carrying contraband from the coast towards London with those ill – gotten gains . Now [...]