Monday, October 31, 2016


Hollywood enters  Halloween
Theatre meets its theurgy
And tis a horror best left unseen
For who can make such a fun
Of these frightening things
When by terror are we all undone
Yet I cannot suppose we care
If evil should indeed be seen
Already in our world it is there
So if you will enjoy the evil day
Make sure you have a mind
Your pretend dread will go away

Friday, October 28, 2016


Time now becomes witness
To a splendorous withering
The flowers are all fading
Desiccating as autumn leaves
Naught can restore their colour
For their vibrant instance is over
So let the wind blow and rage
Cast sepals and petals to earth
For what remains is ever, intact
The seeds endure and can wait
For new days that come again
And spring occasion births them

Wednesday, October 26, 2016


The honey has dripped away
Bitter is this winter to come
The sharp days dull like pain
Blur around a growing dark
Beauty withdraws its grace
We are become winter bees
Inside fragile hives of dreams
With only flickering firelight
To draw memories of better days

Monday, October 24, 2016

To Rest

Rest now upon the ages
Night has come
For a child of the sun
She withdraws her light
That shone upon us all
And our days shall become darker
But in this unwelcome gloom
This unlooked for quiet
She may find sleep now
Become a ship becalmed
Slumbering through ages
On an ocean of flowers
She may take her rest
On her long missed lovers arm
And wait for sweet reunions
That one by one
Will come to her
When our winters' fall

Saturday, October 22, 2016


These days come upon us wet
A feral water crashing in fury
Upon the tall, wooden cliffs
Shore and tree line lock to furious battle
As the wild seas break like awakening
Winter comes home from the west
Skyward look as leaves fall like comets
Shadowy snowflakes slide down glass
Liquid stone rupturing upon heat
New days are made to slumber in
As wasps crackle and wither in starry airs

Friday, October 21, 2016


Granted it is a sharp barb, but no blade of dignity is this lesser part of courage we choose to call wit. It is the refuge of the scoundrel who would seek to usurp reason with jest and inconsequence than be ennobled by kindness. 

Tuesday, October 18, 2016


Today was made for the mer-people. Water swirls around my feet as though it would wish to make a fluid knot and slowly unbalance me; drag me down into a mermaid's arms. Is it not told that in the rain they come to the surface and watch us but that all we humans ever see are signs of decaying ripples left by these aquatic fairies. Expanding circlets of wonder left as they dive in their silvered robes, flashing long tails of black lined scales. Moreover, if you could hear them, they sing of the perils of the sea. A long slow lament of deep water and fading light within bottomless oceans. Though I must confess I have never seen a mermaid the legends makes their possibility all the more real;  for as science expands it seems only the mysteries that remain hidden and unexplained are the greatest enchantment still.

Kate in Manchester

Some pictures of Kate and William in Manchester last week taken by Mike and others. She looks so different in the top and bottom pictures.

Sunday, October 16, 2016


When I put the kitchen light on this morning, I could hear a tapping on the window. I opened the blind to see about thirty wasps flying aimlessly against the glass in an attempt to get to the light. The nest is breaking and anarchy is the queen now. The males have been evicted and the workers wander aimless and lost.

I make a light in the night and then shrink back
And tortured, purposeless they come to the window
Winged warrior queens in a vain and futile fluttering
The wasps are fading into the dawn in swarms of pain
Raging yellow- black stains on late summer's glassy page
Their summer almost done; they curse the new days
They now reject its unsolicited options like a tragedy
And were they to touch me they would surely strike
In a jaundiced ill that seeks only to assuage its pain
Piercing me with a sting, I could not draw out again
So I damp the light and retire into shadows once more
Let them rage and batter the glass for I cannot help
These bittersweet casualties of winters war against us

Friday, October 14, 2016


It's a little early but i'll probably do another later. I made an animation to go along with it. 

Shadow on ceiling, window and wall
Monstrous silhouettes to chill and appall
Flickering shapes that form in the night
We hide under the covers; shake in fright
For what might slither from under the bed
Or lurk within a closet to fill us with dread
Vampires and werewolves, ogre and witch
A bestiary of monsters to our reason unstitch
And once the fiends your own eyes have seen
You will begin to believe about Halloween 

Wednesday, October 12, 2016


This folly, this whim, this optimism of day
Till dusk when I settle still to fade and fall
And so I lie, as the night flies soft about me
But still my dreams burn and rage against time
These hopes and wishes set ablaze in the hearth of day
To now be consumed in such disenchantment by night
Yet still I settle and still and I fade and fall
And in such a state am I revived again to rise
To rekindle the sweet anticipation for tomorrow 

Monday, October 03, 2016


The last new hornet queen leaves the nest to make her way into the autumn as two of the workers watch by the entrance.

Vespa:   Well that's the last of them gone; finally we have some free time for us. It has been a hard summer getting all the new queens raised. You'd think we'd get a bit of gratitude from the old one, but no; might as well wish for jam everyday instead.

Crabro: If you think there will be any free time then I suggest you make the   best of it. Have you not noticed how cold it is becoming, or that the light fails ever earlier these days?

Vespa:   Hey I've been busy you know. Feeding these ungrateful new queens was pretty hectic. So what if the days are not as warm now.  We will fly only on the sunny days and spend the other time here at home among the family. Though I have to say the mood of the hive is so much gloomier of late. You think everyone would be happy to see the end of our great work.

Crabro: And there you have it. It is the end of our great work and also it is the end of us. You do understand we won't see another summer sister? We have completed our task in the great scheme of the world. We are not fertile and we cannot feed in the winter. We are expendable; there is no food and even if there were, we cannot survive its cold. We shall linger a few weeks more and maybe the frost will come late if we are lucky.

Vespa:    It doesn't seem to be very fair then. We do all the work and then die.
Crabro: Fairness is immaterial. The queen is worn out and ready to rest as are also most of us. The new queens have mated and will feed and then sleep till the days of spring return. Then completely alone they must begin all this again. Do not envy them sister for theirs is the hardest task of all.

Vespa:    What of the males then. Will they survive?
Crabro: The males who mate die soon after and the rest well they follow pretty soon after. They are bred for a single purpose and once they have left we do not let them back again.

Vespa:    How come you know all this happens to us sister and yet I do not?
Crabro: Because sometimes due to chance one of us workers will survive the awful winter and emerge again in the spring. I remember I fed and then I slept among the paper cells till the new queen awoke and then I was able to serve her.  This is my second year. I am older than the queen herself.

Vespa:    You know I always thought your wings were ragged. But I didn't like to say.
Crabro:   May I tell you a secret sister.

Vespa:    Of course

Crabro: I layed a single egg once and watched it for weeks till it hatched. It was a male and it was raised and in the autumn it flew out to mate and I never saw him again. I remember it had silver antennae which is very rare for us wasps. Normally they are completely black.

Vespa:  Can we lay eggs then? I thought only the queen could do that.
Crabro:  Normally that is the way of things but sometimes if we wish it enough we can produce them.

Vespa: I wonder what happened to your boy?
They sit on the paper comb silent and the old queen comes over.

Queen:    Come on girls, you know the rules; no loitering at the entrance. Away with you both; there is still some nectar to be had yet. She flicked them playfully with her silver antennae and they bowed and flew off into the dawn.

Vespa:  did you see; her antennae are silver
Crabro:  I always wondered about that too.