I know, memory plays tricks and the tales of an old man may no longer be recognisably connected with the deeds of his youth. Yet surely I am not yet that old! A book has been published, a story told. All in a volume slim enough to be a book of poetry, but what … More Not perhaps as I would have done it.
There was a time when I used to play quite a lot of cards. I look back and think to my self that I wasn’t a bad player, just handicapped by a paucity of funds and an anxious craving to eat at least two meals a day. But I would spend quite a lot … More Card play
It was one of those days. The sort where the wind howls, the rain blows and all a man can do is to wrap his cloak more tightly around himself and press on. I’d been working. I’d been asked to read a few poems by the wife of an innkeeper who had some hope … More It’s wet out
I suppose there is a danger I will be accused of becoming obsessed with the fact that artists are inadequately appreciated. So I felt that I should perhaps give an example of the opposite. It could be fifteen years back now; Sarl Onwater had gained the Sinecure supporting the literary arts. Those of my generation … More The essence of true humility