Natural Meditation

Sitting amongst the purple foxgloves meditating,
The unnatural quietness of a glorious dawn.
The profound stillness of the early morning air,
Brings awareness of nature’s smallest sounds,
The muted murmur of early morning,
Swelling and pulsating with its own rhythm.
One can hear, and even feel,
The ancient heartbeat of the countryside,
For a brief space it seems as though one
Marks time together with the world.
Having felt an outsider during most of life
One becomes all at once an intrinsic
And important part of nature’s whole.

Anarchy

The anarchist in the head
Fighting to be released
Examining the rules
Champing at the bit
Seeking ways to break them

Anarchy and formality
A potent mix
Conflict ever lurks there
Waiting waiting waiting
To explode the myth

Formality rules
Anarchy subverts
The winner takes it all
They say
The anarchist thinks not

The Anarchist

The anarchist

there

in ma heid

lurking

waiting

ready to pounce

upon any

formality

it spies

rules must

be broken

subverted

kicked oot

of ma heid

no room

at the inn

anarchy cries

cease

desist

your knocking

formality

not welcome

here

The alarm woke Kate. She felt that initial enthusiasm for the day drain away. She had woken up feeling that her head was going to explode. She knew it was Monday again without even having to think about it. How? Well, Monday was the only day of the week that…

Words! We write them, speak them, read them, and listen to them. The written word comes in many different forms, a letter, a book, a newspaper etc. etc.. And equally each category can be split into many different sub-categories. For example, a book can be an academic tome, a novel…

Most people’s idea of a librarian is of a middle aged or elderly woman who is set in her ways, and rather boring. Polly had negotiated herself a month off work. She had a plan. In her mind the plan was a week to finalise the planning stage and purchase…

They are always with me,
Those from the past,
Giving me advice,
Telling me I’m wrong.

I can never forget them,
Those from the past,
They will not allow that.
And I value their concern.

I remember them living,
Those from the past,
We all had such fun then,
How could I ever forget?

Brenda Hall was remembering how she was in her mid-twenties when she came to Portreal. She had been the subject of much discussion when she first arrived, mainly because she was on her own, and that she had bought Red Rock, and the house associated with it. Red Rock is…

Over breakfast John was thinking about last night’s gig, and the disaster that had been. He had talked to the landlord of The Blue Anchor afterwards to apologise for the chaos that was supposed to be a gig. Luckily he had heard good things about the Weirwolves and was prepared…

Just one of many creative writing exercises that I am, at present, engaged in.

Consider the stories and the characters that might lie behind this sketch:

A butter-yellow Ford Cortina, key scratches on the bonnet, spelling out a word or a signature, can’t tell which. A peeling Canaries sticker on…

Alph Thomas

The thoughts of Gittus Miserabilis concerning travels and photography, and many other things.

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