There is no figure of night pieced together from patches of dark room, scrambled light of a blink.
I thought I'd share some poetry with you as Christmas rapidly approaches! This poem was inspired by a snowy Brecon Beacons, witnessed some years back.
Fantasy’s stamp is upon this sky From the cloud dust remains of a quartet of ghosts, they grow, gather pace on the carousel,
The Story Wise Creative Writing Workshop is back! This time, taking place in Clonmel and Dungarvan, offering people the chance to learn to write a short story in a day!
The aunts never shaved their legs. They rolled up their trousers and ran into the sea.
It's a mystery, how the mind leaps from primitive sound to intricate, webbed sentence,
Can I tell you before it’s tarnished? Before the lichen crust absolves me of need to share?
So that's my best and scariest spider poem and I hate to tell you, it's inspired by a real life creature who lived over the front door of my house. Happily, I'm referring to my old house, not my current residence.
I thoroughly enjoyed teaching a Creative Writing workshop over the weekend. The aim was to write a short story in one day and the attendees rose to the challenge with breathtaking results. I can't reveal too many story secrets but will say that the quality of writing was very high.
Icicles don't bend, they stand up straight and spear. Through them, I see a white expanse, the field has stolen snow . . .
I was performing poetry at Brewery Lane, Carrick-on-Suir last Friday. I was also battling a severe case of stage fright. Back when I ran a small publishing company called 'Young Welsh and Poetic', I read poetry regularly, for the most part at my own events, on my own terms.
I decided I had to post a poem in honour of All Ireland Poetry Day. The choice was easy as I've been looking back at Summer, feeling the familiar relief that it's over and Autumn, in all its fiery brilliance is gaining prominence.
July can be a heady month; pollen still strong, the sun burgeoning. So far, this July has been a little damp and cooler than expected, but as a hay fever sufferer, I'm not complaining at all! I've been busy observing nature and scribbling fragments of summer micropoetry.
This moss is her island, its dewy green . . .
I'm currently writing a short story which has led me to reflect on writing inspiration. It's a roadtrip adventure with a touch of romance and features an artistic free-spirited heroine and her male best friend, a laidback, wisecracking sidekick.
Sequels are always a challenge because they have something to live up to. A short story sequel is no exception. The reader expects the original characters to appeal to them in the same way as they did previously. They also expect them to have grown.
Licorice legs and a walnut shell. You could be a crab, tired of the grainy shore, the glucose whirl of a gluey sea.
When you wake with petals strewn at your inner imaginings, you try to live up to the sweet start,
Burgundy-earth patches on cream, soft as calla lily.
Magic and the Modern Witch was inspired by childhood memories of 'Clyne Gardens' a park situated just minutes from my home. My elder sister used to make up stories about the various buildings within the park.