A library is A room or building Full of books And people Borrowing and reading books The service is libre Free You are at liberty To borrow and read books From librarians Liberal people Tolerant of those Who borrow and read books They are there to liberate The imagination The thoughts The words Contained in […]
Month: August 2015
Rejection Haiku
A shadow stamped on The spark of my creative Soul – it did not die. Yesterday was one of those Mondays that start well and then slide away from you. The early morning alphabet acrostic poem gave me a feeling of accomplishment. Later in the morning I went to the local library, where I am a […]
Flexing my creative muscles
Inspired by yesterday’s post from businessinrhyme, I wrote the following poem, where each starting letter of a line is a consecutive letter of the alphabet, from A to Z, a form of acrostic. It was a good exercise for flexing my creative muscles before writing the first draft of Chapter 8 of The Haunted Tide. […]
If Only Game
Following the instructions on the item I re-posted earlier this morning, I thought I would try it out: Place the word ‘only’ anywhere in the sentence: ‘She told him that she loved him.’ Only she told him that she loved him. She only told him that she loved him. She told only him that she […]
If Only
Originally posted on R. Sativus:
I saw this on Facebook earlier. I think it’ll be my project for the next week. A story a day with only in a different spot. What do you think?
Moon Watching
Late last night I looked out of the small window in our back door and was amazed that the magnificent moon of Thursday and Friday hadn’t waned – it was just mistier. So I wrote the following poem. I’ve included a copy on the page with the poem Once in a Blue Moon. Watching the […]
Ghost Writer (a short story)
Ghost Writer (a short story).
Licensed to “I Don’t Give a Shit”
Originally posted on Punch Drunk Village:
I’m turning OLD this year. But I’m taking it all quite well, really. There are benefits to aging of course. Social benefits, for example. And one in particular I find quite tantalizing. Since I’ve always been a tad socially-reckless — over-sharing, stirring the pot, making listeners squirm — what I’m most looking forward to with turning old is…
Sleep Interrupted and Rilke’s Panther
After a fitful night I got up and wrote a poem called Sleep Interrupted, which is below and on a page of its own. Sleep interrupted Leap into the void of slumber Fall down the rabbit hole Slip through scudding cumuli Descend into docile dreams Or crash through thunderclouds Into noxious night terrors Run barefoot […]
writing in north norfolk 