All Wrapped Up!
Some dislike it; many enjoy it. Whether you are a gift-wrapping genius or not, no one can deny that receiving creatively covered presents builds up the excitement of discovering the surprise inside. It is believed…
From Teddy With Love
A huge bundle of post had accumulated over the summer holidays. Amanda blinked in disbelief, among educational supplements and map publications were three glossy postcards. One from St Ives. Another from Scotland, and the third…
Winter Walk In The French Alps
Written after a family holiday a few years ago, this poem is about an enchanting and scenic walking route around the winter sports resort of La Clusaz, Manigod. ‘Pine cones glisten on trees, at their…
Chasing Colours
Land of Ice and Fire was another name I’d heard for the Nordic island before travelling to Iceland, and after a week there I could understand why. The fire part certainly represents the glow the…
Mouse In Our Christmas Tree
Excitement infused the air as I lugged bulging shopping bags through the frosty doorway of our cottage twenty years ago. My seven-year-old son and teenage daughter’s animated voices drifted through from the lounge before the…
Red And Proud
It’s surprising how some of these red iconic kiosks have been reinvented, and when I saw this Halloween themed telephone box at Turnchapel, Devon, it reminded me of an article I had written. Red and…
Two Waterfalls Become One
Set in autumn time and a story close to my heart. I entered it for the Iceland Writers Retreat annual short story competition in 2017 and overjoyed when it was awarded third place. Two Waterfalls…
Gem Of Cornwall
A short poem about St Germans that was published on a well-known building society’s website a few years ago. ‘The River Tiddy runs through it and spanned by a viaduct, where the Sailing Club lives…
One Misty Night
Mitchell’s foot was caught in a rocky crevice. It was dusk; mist-shrouded the moor, and Jake wished that he and his best friend hadn’t relied on their mobile phones to navigate them. His was out…
Writing Journey
As the coach rolls out of London, I take pen and notebook out of my backpack. I haven’t written for a week and I need to, but what? Maybe I’ll pen a poem, but inspiration…