Before, in the putative asylum of her bedroom whether alone or in the company of lovers the one of curious Grecian genesis would always keep alight the loose hanging shade-less bulb As a vocal self-proclaimed freethinker those who understood these things thought this her greatest contradiction The ignorance of brawn afforded him an ability to … More CARDBOARD CITY


Grey granite stone, the great doddery wall towering over little since Roman times, knocked together long, long ago by the one-time burghers of South Rie…South Rie, the pre-spruced up tribal name of a latter day nouveau riche county. Over time ‘granite’ had seen Roundheads and Cavaliers playing the game called ‘revolution’, Luftwaffe bombers above, ‘up … More OUT OF THE MOONLIT BLUE


THE SCULLERY MAID a nebula of apathy dims the moral high ground there is nothing enlightening to unearth atop Mount Virtue no reward at all however cathartic the climb looking down from the crest the ever open canopy the lush savannah plains a land the Blameless claim to be a defiled Eden a place of … More THE SCULLERY MAID


My new book: ‘The Blue-Eyed Cat’ has finally been freed from her solitary confinement within the lonely prison cell that is my dark and empty skull. At last at liberty, the world is now her oyster…although all indications are that her ideal preference would be pride of place upon the shelf of a grand bookcase … More THE BLUE-EYED CAT


That I felt the burning hurt of the sharp slap about my face confirmed my heart still pumped. Reluctant conjoined eyelids fought good reason in their quest for an equitable divorce. Then the soothing touch of a soft, lukewarm palm upon my brow set in motion a myriad of wideawake apparitions. It was the girl … More C’EST LA VIE


In abandoned captivity, within a wrought iron cage, within a cold Caen limestone walled cell, within a forgotten fortress set in the shadow of the dark side of civilization, sits an innocent occupant, determined by his sniggering contemporaries to be the guilty party, his crime, the stealing of the hearts of a divided nation. He … More THE PRISONER


Long since she had set aside time for reflection. Reminders of days gone by. Important? Most likely. A habit, certainly. Regardless, instinct told her that lessons learned shaped new dawns. Contemplation invariably led her toward an unremitting trinity of memories. Of those times when she stood quizzical, gawping, mouth wide open at a single, curiously … More A NEW DAWN


Legend has it that he finally fell on his own sword that the baffling tyranny of paralyzed ruminations finally did for the man who once had the whole shebang   To have known then lost the Midas touch is an accursed thing for ravenous the urge to retrace tracks; to turn back time and repair … More A FOND FAREWELL