Wednesday, 27 May 2020


Watercolour by A.P. Barrow

He was never meant to be a cartoon character.
He is a noble Spirit of the Forest
to all those whose minds have remained open
to the Old Gods, the old ways of the Ancestors.

Still, he remains our powerful protector,
one of our greatest teachers: Nature's map
of the cosmos within each Soul,
clothed in leaf and bark and vine.

Vibrant green and composed of Oak,
he is Herne's messenger - less a creation of man,
more pure Elemental: wildly loyal
to the Druids of Clas Myrddin, both past and present.

And how he gasps at our selfishness, bleeding sap, as our
wanton destruction of this precious blue globe tortures him.
Now, more than ever, we need to unearth our roots.
He is our final, our only, hope.

Thursday, 21 May 2020

Thought I'd take advantage of my once a day permitted local exercise time...

THURSDAY: Deadwater Valley Walk...

Knox Pond.

King's Oak, reputed to be over three hundred years old!

The King's Chair...I felt like a queen! Lol

FRIDAY: The Monument...

Hoping to meet the spirit of a Cavalier. πŸ˜‰

SATURDAY: Deadwater Valley Nature Reserve...

A cabin in the forest.

Hope you enjoyed "walking" with me...and thank you so much for your company! 😊

Thursday, 14 May 2020


Finally finished my painting! Yay!!! πŸ™‹

My humble tribute to this fabulous TV series of the 1980's. Hope you like it! 

Have a great day xxx

Friday, 8 May 2020


For an old friend...

There was the homeland Salim described so vividly
in the military post room, where he showed me photos
and presented me with an ornate copper coffee pot.

He tried so hard to teach me Arabic, but
I just couldn't grasp it. All that 
reading and writing in alien characters -

and from right to left - really screwed my head.
The next week he'd be returning home to his child bride
and swapping army uniform for traditional dress.

Perhaps I'd never see Salim again, but
in my mind's eye, I'd haunt his whitewashed home
and linger often beneath a scorching Omani sun...

Thursday, 30 April 2020


It is the most romantic thing,
the story of a wedding ring
that now I know off by rote -
a happily ever after quote.

His elaborate tales that glorify
the origins of my brother and I,
and the onward genetic multiplication
that began with mutual adulation.

Oh how her appearance brings such thrills
when she enters with arms full of daffodils.
And there's a moist softness in his eyes
as he watches her cross the room and sighs.

"Can you picture," he whispers with a wink,
"a letter written in purple ink
from an unknown author, asking to meet?
Well I'll tell you this, my heart skipped a beat!

Incredulous, I so wanted to believe
but didn't want to appear naΓ―ve,
and so I nearly gave it a miss.
Imagine if I had! Remember this -

don't be bashful and afraid of stigma
when fate presents an intriguing enigma,
but grasp it with both hands and
forget even trying to understand,

because who knows what joys untold
may well be waiting to unfold.
Some experiences compare with no other,
for instance take a look at your mother.

Just behold that beautiful face
and for a moment the notion embrace
all that I could have thrown away
if scepticism had won the day!"

Friday, 24 April 2020


For Paul Gedzyk...

There is this memory of two wheels
churning up a spray of mud
high into the Boxing Day air.
Then the blue blur of your helmet

as you enter then leave my vision
in an instant, grappling with thin air
while your bike performs elaborate somersaults
in the opposite direction.

My heart is pounding with dread
as I approach the scene, my head
full of images of your broken bloodied body.
But you are fine...this time,

just resemble some grotesque mud monster
rising up out of the ground, as the crowd
rush to your aid. Trembling, I head to the pub
for a double brandy...

Friday, 17 April 2020


I awoke with a frown
to a birthday in lockdown -
was it worth celebration
in such isolated location?

But then I thought I would try
to somehow rectify
this strange situation
of mass trepidation

by banishing self-pity
and creating a pretty
dinner for one,
wholly homespun.

Well, I mean to say,
it matters not today
that I'm cut off from friends
for my emotion transcends

such trivial needs,
when my heart bleeds
for all those who've lost
loved ones at such cost

of broken heart
and life torn apart,
while my loved ones remain
so I'll see them again

when all this is over
and we're once more in clover.
Oh how grateful I'll be
then if fate has spared me!

My birthday lunch 😊😊