celtic fires on this hyrne or horn, this gifted tongue of kent, still dream of trade armadas in the offing, above the stove of timbers. turnstones on the shore ungravel kilned penny pipes and pins and shingle, a bronze of barnes wallis and some kid skimming stones.
Three sites, three bloggers that I'd like to recommend as my favourites for March. Please give them a view, a nod, a wink. https://ivors20.wordpress.com Ivor describes himself as an amateur poet from Geelong. And, by amateur, I understand him to mean in the true sense... Amateur: 18th cent., from French, from Italian amatore, from Latin … Continue reading Three Favourite Blogs For March!
he set a tarpaulin beneath two shadowed trees and spread his proceeds all around. he sat in the sand & handed out sheaves & read out the names of the things he had found. he promised attainment, elopement & seed, proffered score journals to prove he was sound. pulled paperback rabbits from warrens of … Continue reading paperback rabbits.
bad lieutenant had the greasy palm, sought soft fruit solace in an odd shaped bar. supped black sambuca - contracted boozers' arm. couldn't find way out of carrier bag. caught a tap on the chin from the bristol crow. grew to dislike soubriquet bestowed. reversed tartan, tripled vodka intake flow. couldn't find way out … Continue reading soubriquet.
donate some more american pie, turn out, top-shelf, reward of pliny. rear up and spear, spoon and sprout. and soon send several suppers weekly. she knew there was something wrong with the elders - kids hidden in the men of yesterday's pages, spoke of weal, sopping papers, misbehaviour. put up the hunt was the trick to … Continue reading spoke of weal
