New Poem – Striking…

    Striking isn’t it? How the joyous Always reveal Something fresh And glorious About themselves.   Illusions of vulnerability Evaporated by pure spirit.   Just as it was that day You kissed someone. And for The very first time They truly kissed you back.   This then the beauty Of being alive, Pared down To its very essentials.   Its...

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New artwork ‘Fantasy Forest’

    This the first in a brand new series of high quality limited edition prints, all centred around images that have caught my eye when travelling. This one inspired by a photograph I took of woodland in Slovakia. More to follow… All signed and numbered in strictly limited editions of only thirteen. Giclee Fine Art prints on the finest 290 gsm stock...

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New publication…

  Delighted to say my one and only novel to date Reunion was this week published worldwide as an e book available on Kindle from amazon.com and priced only at £0.99 ($1.38) to help keep it affordable to everyone. It’s been a long time coming… And now couldn’t be any easier, as the Kindle App can be downloaded free of charge to any device of your...

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New Poem – An old view seen anew…

An old view Seen anew.   Lost In morning perfection, The illusion Peacefulness Improves everything, When fervour’s a resource Used all too sparingly And there’s So much wonder Out there To even ruffle the surface of.   How often Do we turn away though? Timid, as we are.   And without such sparks Time can pass by, Like an empty whisper, Meaningless and...

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‘The spirit of Christmas’ Regent Street, London.

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New Poem – Like some flutter…

    Like some flutter Of a fishing line, Whose glistening hook You’ve already Been caught upon, Don’t ever look to Undervalue suffering When it comes to visit.   Equal as it is To any kinder, softer, Sweeter experience.   For, taken altogether, This is how We are nourished, How we grow into The glorious spaces In between.   Till some vital...

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New Poem – For Dylan Thomas…

  “And death shall have no dominion” Given all we are born to In this gorgeous sunlit bower, Whatever bonds we forge, Even as charmed infants, Or the more teasing passions We might uncover later In this deliciously viscous, Verdant world, They all come from this.   Our chance of flesh and blood And there’s no coming back From that, Nor should...

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Prague by night…

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