Sunday, 1 December 2019
A fellow blogger using my photography to illustrate their own enigmatic writing.
Please see the link below.
Thursday, 21 November 2019
Electric gadgets in the home,
I switch them off;
And in the dark I sit alone.
I think of things and scare myself;
I put the book back on the shelf,
No more Stephen King.
Is that the wind or a banshee calling?
There is something out in the garden.
My skin is crawling.
I look out and find,
My neighbours’ cat wailing,
No more Hammer videos.
I haven’t got the nerves for horror,
My stomach’s made of jelly.
All these monsters, ghosts and gore,
Perhaps it’s me, am I a bore?
No more tales of blood and woe.
I just can’t take it anymore.
“No more” was first published in Fosket D. (Ed.) (1995) Heebie jeebies: by Anchor Books of Peterborough England.
Wednesday, 20 November 2019
Sometimes, when I close my eyes.
I can see a land, not far away.
Of rolling hills and mountain streams,
I can smell the ocean on the breeze.
Blackbirds sing and hawks, they dance.
Foxes play, while old brock sleeps.
And in the cave, the wild man sits,
And looks deep, into the spiral pit.
Who is this wild man I see?
It is I and am I dreaming?
And in the spiral maze do I see,
The future for all, for you and for me?
I can walk this land whenever I wish.
I can climb the hills and fish the stream.
I can descend in this most haunting dream.
In the darkness away from the Sun.
Within the womb of the sacred.
I can bathe in the lake and be refreshed.