Category: Prose

Postcard poetry: Soho square

A June afternoon and Soho square is packed with people, lounging, lunching, scattering themselves like litter over the grass. Pigeons rest up – too hot for canoodling. Unwelcome squatters with little regard for the history of the half-timbered gardener’s hut, treating it as a luxurious dovecote , a crow’s nest even…

A taste of salt and honey

A holiday does not feel complete until the photos are sorted and it’s written up, so by way of closure, I’m joining Jo’s Monday walk (as I slip away for another few days break). Costa Brava meaning wild/rough coast is indeed rugged and the holiday had a slight rocky…

Just another Twitter quitter

Just as Lent is coming to an end I’ve decided to give something else up – Twitter to be precise. Other than tweeting mine or others’ blog posts and checking in every so often to see if I’ve missed anything, it’s a social media outlet I…