Saturday, 22 August 2015

brief light mist, creative writing work, typesetting, poem

There was a brief, light mist as I left the village on the bike this morning. Very localised.

A lot of creative writing work has to be completed before I take a break in September.

Also working on the typesetting for I Am the Man Who Lives in a Shoe (formerly Trust: A family story) and Facing the Strange.

In respect of the former, I'm pleased with the order that I placed the narratives, blog posts and other material in. There needs to be some copy editing and a touch of rewriting but it is nearly as I want it. Then I can get feedback from colleagues.

Oxford is very quiet just now.

And here is a poem, or whatever. [Sunday 23rd August: now becoming a work in progress...]

Children Playing

Berry-brown boys and girls
Play in the evening sun.
A woman enters the scene.
'Come on, bed now please. Girls. Boys.'

Fizzing excitement accompanies the children,
Making sleep
At least for ten minutes.

In the garden,
Energy and sheer love of life
Out here and ‎deep inside memory's honeycomb.


  1. Frank. Which berries are brown? Or is this an allusion that I am not capable of understanding. From 'brown as a berry' I suppose, but all of the berries I can think of are black, red, white or green.

    1. Good point, Rob. It's an expression that doesn't make literal sense. Indeed what berries are intended? The origins of the simile are Chaucer (two instances) but so far as I can tell there is no great theory that explains which berries might have been meant. Still it's a common phrase - one that my dad used - and I felt it's slightly old-fashioned feel suited the poem, which I see as being set several decades in the past.