It’s the hottest day of the year , tomorrow will be even hotter. Ted has come to the end of his journey. The pub is full to send him on his way. Francis has been gone 8 long years, ‘Though lovers be lost love shall not’ as the great Welsh pub man would say. Soon…
Category: Poetry
Life : Ashes Beneath the Turf
I walk through misty rain. The dog jumps and charges in the wind. We come to where manuka and kawakawa meet grass . Here my grandparents lie. Ashes beneath the turf. A place reserved for those who served. Survivors of a second world war. All but passed now, all ashes beneath the turf. I sit….
Raise the Dawn 