Following the fickle lady

I suppose poets are as guilty as anybody else. Yes we pander to our patrons, flaunting our verse like one of the Daughters of Joy flaunting her cleavage. In spite of our claims to be above such things, claiming we strive only to perfect our art; we crave recognition, respect and the financial security which … More Following the fickle lady

Fine fresh apples

It has to be said that I’m rather partial to a nice crisp apple. The area around Port Naain is quite good from them, northerly but not too northerly, and the weather is quite bracing which apparently blows all the pests away. Or so I am reliably informed by those who claim to know. As … More Fine fresh apples

The Estuary Road

I can remember my first sight of the estuary road. It’s a short length of cobbled road, the cobbles laid between timbers and the timbers held in place by great piles driven into the mud. There’s not much left of it nowadays, and the older shore-combers will tell you that they can remember when there … More The Estuary Road