I reorganised my bookshelves during lock-down. I’m a bit anal about it, collections by author, compendiums by country – drives my wife crazy. I think she’d prefer them by colour. I was easily distracted and an hour’s task lasted weeks. Buried in the shelves I found gems, such as three collections by Pat Ingoldsby, who…
Continue Reading
Big issues hit home when personified by small gestures. I’m thinking here of the people who clap the NHS, bang pots, shed tears, smile for the front line. And now we’re more aware of the other unseen, the second line: pharmacists, posties, delivery people, police, those behind the counter. Put a name on any of…
Continue Reading
I was in Ireland with my grandkids recently. My youngest daughter, who lives in Manchester, phoned me beforehand and said: “D-a-d” which has three syllables and usually means trouble. “I’ve got the dates confused,” she said, responsibility distanced by blaming the dates. “My school friends are gathering for a weekend in Belfast and I wondered…
Continue ReadingThe landlady of our local pub introduced me to two mediums recently. They said they were devout Christians as if that explained some oddity. They were on a mission. A woman had lost her son and wouldn’t be happy until she held his hand again. “When did she lose him?” I asked. “1750,” was the…
Continue Reading
I took up Italian recently. I’d a smattering of the language from business trips over the years: please and thanks, basic greetings, and I wouldn’t have died of thirst in a trattoria. I used the app, Duolingo, and CDs, all of which were fine but I lacked a voice, a real Italian to converse with….
Continue Reading
There’s an outbreak of poetry around Christmas. I love it. We’ve a special evening in the Village Hall in Liddington with carol singers from Bristol University followed by festive poems, and then there’s Santa (bless his Wiltshire accent!) It’s always a sell-out and I highly recommend it. In the weeks leading up to the event…
Continue Reading
I wrote in a recent article that my friend, Paul Waites, composed a poem for my birthday. I said it was so good I entered it into a competition. Many of you have asked what happened next. Well, he didn’t win but poetry judging is obtuse – and I’m a bad loser! But back to…
Continue Reading
Every year Poetry Swindon runs a weekend with local and visiting poets. This year it’s branded “The Big Poetry Weekend” and there are some good names. What to recommend to my regular readers? Poetry has many channels and sometimes it’s difficult to navigate. Some poets wallow in complexity with no consideration of an audience, some…
Continue Reading
I’m sure some of you know Milton Campbell from Stratton St. Margaret. You’ll understand the link here with his first name, Milton. When his parents named him after the great poet, John Milton, it could’ve been a millstone around his considerable neck, or a lifetime with a great conversation opener. He opted for the latter….
Continue Reading
This is an uplifting story a year on. It’s about a Swindon man who, had he lived, would be 70. What set Dafydd Rouse apart was that he was gay and a poet, a dangerous combination during his lifetime. The end wasn’t great either. He was paralysed after a motorbike accident and died ten years…
Continue Reading