Grave concerns

Now it’s not for me to disillusion anybody. After all, enduring as a poet is very much a life of encouraging misapprehensions and spreading enchantment. So people rather assume that as a poet I live a most cerebral existence. A life of witty repartee, deep and meaningful insights, and wise words, graciously dispensed. To be … More Grave concerns

To your very door!

You know what it’s like. It’s getting late and you discover that there’s nothing in the house to eat. Alternatively you arrive home after a hard day at the office to discover that cook has taken the day off because her elderly mother is unwell and your lady wife is dining that evening with her … More To your very door!

The orphans

I rarely despair of Port Naain. After all, who wants a gloomy poet? There is a school of thought which suggests we are merely a better class of buffoon. Between ourselves and in all candour, I’m not sure whether the terms ‘school’ and ‘thought’ should be used in connection with people which such a poor … More The orphans

Kept in the dark

It has to be said that those of us involved with the shrine of Aea in her Aspect as the Personification of Tempered Enthusiasm do occasionally feel ‘put upon.’ I suppose it’s because we’re not involved in any great public ceremonials, are stuck out on the periphery and don’t have a lot of money. Change … More Kept in the dark

A love story, part four. Graciously rattling the collection bucket

Not everybody is lucky enough to discover their vocation immediately. Whereas I was obviously doomed to be a great poet, others often vacillate between any number of options. Indeed some people don’t so much discover their calling as have it thrust upon them. Hindle Walbarrow is perhaps a good example of just how life can … More A love story, part four. Graciously rattling the collection bucket