The Ballad of Stagbold Keep Initially, I confess, I had intended to write this as verse and then find some poor and credulous musician to supply music. But frankly the story is too complex for such treatment and I lack the patience. In short the story is simple. I was lured to Stagbold Keep by … More The Ballad of Stagbold Keep
So you wish to make a living as a poet? Had enough of the daily grind? Feel that the fate which condemned you to a life of drudgery as a wage slave is undeserved? Do you yearn to follow your muse wherever that wanton mistress leads you? You too can live life on the edge … More How to make a living as a poet, part two.
The bottles sprawl unheeded The discarded valiant dead Their sacrifice accepted Sobriety has fled The truth it surfaced briefly But shrugged and went to bed. Will you walk again beside me? Will you tread the path I tread? The wine it made me wordy The truth when poured was red I didn’t mean to speak … More Belatedly, for National Poetry Day
I was once told, ‘Beware of rich friends and beautiful women, you’ll end up out of your depth.’ Nonsense, the advantage of being a poet of genius is that you can meet all these folk on the same level. The beautiful woman is just delighted that you immortalise her fleeting beauty, whilst your rich friend … More Shower me with gold.
It’s funny to look back on the heady days of your youth and the various pranks that one got up to back then. We were reminiscing over a glass of wine, as you do, when Julatine Sypent mentioned the incident of the tower of the three maidens. You can see from the picture that the … More Through a glass, grimly