short story, the portrait artist.

Do not dare to mock my solitude, I am more than happy to spend my time on this wall, soaking up the sun listening to the sounds of the square. These were his thoughts on…

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Poem – Travel back then

I often wish I had created the same for my own kids, maybe I did, I will have to ask them. Travel creates memories. It doesn’t matter where you go – you just go somewhere.…

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Poem – Virginia wilting

Virginia crawls and creeps her cluster She does not fuss her timeless walls She works her wilting fingers forward, flicking dust and clinging all. Her nimble fingers knitting weaving, plotting scheming covering all. Their house…

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Poem – Wake in a garden

Spiderfly Poets from under the tree February 10, 2017 ·  I want to wake in a garden bright with poems, Where words can play in the grass And tumble and roll like a cricket ball I…

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Skeleton in the attic.

If you were to ask me what was the proudest thing I have ever achieved it has to be, without any doubt, the writing of my first book, based on a true story of my…

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Change and change again.

Mum, why do you have so many notebooks and diaries? I am home from travelling and back at my lovely house La Gaia in Spain. I look around and feel grateful for my surroundings, but…

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Poem – Fluffy Bird

this nonsense has been so absurd remember the yellow fluffy bird the one that led a merry dance and then for two months went to France. the hatter stuck his stick in the ground and…