When the dew lies cool in the day’s eyes, beyond
the umbelliferous lace of napkin fields
morning horses toss and fret, and rooks stalk
among the stubble.
Those “morning horses” were not as quiet as the ones in the Ted Hughes poem, where the narrator “[…] climbed through woods in the hour-before-dawn dark” before coming across the horses: “Grey silent fragments/ Of a grey silent world.” Continue reading “a horse of a different colour”
Yesterday, I went to a breakfast meeting at Stoneleigh Abbey.We ate in the saloon, whose ceiling features this magnificent plaster relief depicting Hercules being welcomed by the gods after his death:I visited the Abbey a couple of years ago and went on a tour of the house; sadly, the photos I took then are currently on a computer that won’t boot, so I only have a couple of pictures I took on my phone as discreetly as possible during the meeting. Continue reading “poetry & plasterwork”
It’s half a lifetime ago that I first left the UK to live abroad, but barely a day goes by when I’m not in touch with someone there, and I still read the British news when I have time.
Usually, my friends and family keep me up to date when there are stories they think I’ll find interesting, so I was disappointed to realise that no one had told me that the hunt was on in Essex for a lion until it was practically all over.
After the apparent popularity of the two splendid beasts in my previous post, I looked through my files to see if I had any more.
Not only is this an impressive animal, but I’ve even found a poem that mentions unicorns to post with it. I am shocked, though, to realise that I wrote it nine years ago and I have done nothing with it. Continue reading “more mythical beasts”
As I have nothing written and ready for posting, I offer these two splendid beasts from the storytelling bench at St Mary de Crypt in Gloucester and ask you to use your imagination to supply a suitable text: