I saw someone answering a question on a forum suggesting that it will only be when people use their hearts and not their minds that the world will unite. I was instantly sure that this was the wrong way round as the things which cause friction seem to me to be deeply emotional – feelings…
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FootSteps Press
I received notice today that FootSteps Press was incorporated on 5th December 2011. FootSteps Press Ltd., is registered as a publisher with lightning source who we anticipate will become our printers. We will be bringing established authors and new authors to the market place by using software that digitally prepares books and prints them on…
Shänne Sands
Fidelity Is For Swans is the first selection of poems by the finest unknown poet of her generation. Shänne Sands has lived and worked in Cornwall for most of her life. She studied at the Guildhall School in London penning her first poems when she was seventeen and publishing her first book when she was…
Blueskin the Cat
Many years ago my mother said she thought the name ‘Blueskin’ was a good one for a book as it was the name of a real highwayman in the England. The book I wrote has become her favourite as it charts the adventures of a man reincarnated as a cat in the seventeenth century, as…
For Christina
The autumnal storms of time strip ideas From my imagination like leaves from A tree, which I shed on paper as tears Of ink for roaming eyes to walk upon, And in the rustling of thoughts grasp a vein Of nature, which has waited for my pen Language, books, paper before it attained All that’s…
Blueskin the Cat – first chapter
Blueskin wasn’t bothered by thoughts of an after-life. He couldn’t spell reincarnation and hadn’t even heard of India where the people believed in such things. What did bother him for a moment was the awful memory of being strangled to death in a hanging and the loss of his beautiful blue waistcoat with the pearl…
Blueskin The Cat: The Opening
Blueskin wasn’t bothered by thoughts of an after-life. He couldn’t spell reincarnation and hadn’t even heard of India where the people believed in such things. What did bother him for a moment was the awful memory of being strangled to death in a hanging and the loss of his beautiful blue waistcoat with the pearl…
To My Future Readers
I lived – air on tongue, light on hair, skin sea Touched, fingers horse maned, tired eyes soft-pillowed A last loving, wall builder drinking tea In a garden rich with roses, willowed. My dirt hands wrote and dug, planted in ink Seeded commas and sentences, infant Words grown from experiences, thought-linked, Stained in the grain…
Mummy How Did God Make Me?
God made you out of a puff of air – Somewhere from heaven near to earth – Mingled you with all my dreams Bound with tears left from my youth – Caressed you with truth’s own breath – Washed and pure, wisely blessed – From millions of silver seeds, Purple gems, strange yet lovely fruits…
A Poem
A series of poems on the many loves of humanity is coming out later this year. This is love in old age: Your eyes speak of my youth and my hand holds Yours with that ease of emotion only Years can grow; suppleness has changed to folds, Wrinkles crease our nakedness, laughingly The young…