Tags » Beccles

Glamor

Out-thought, outfought and out-gunned
Pinned down in a mental trench
With ammo running low
And the supply train backed up
Several miles away
Behind those hills… 233 more words

Poetry

My Father: An Introduction

My father, Harry William Roberts, was the son of Henry William Roberts and Charlotte Frost. He was born in Beccles, Suffolk, England, in 1919, midway through an influenza pandemic that swept through great portions of Europe and the world. 553 more words

Memoir

cv-6

Writer, Inventor and conservationist, John Muir once said: “In every walk with nature one receives far more than he seeks.”

Sometimes it’s great just to immerse yourself in the beauty of nature; in the immense detail in a single flower, in the power of running water, in the enormity of the skies, in the smell just after it’s rained on a hot day. 151 more words

Photography

Injure Eternity

Sometimes it’s just a matter of time
The time to take the time
To embrace the time
Having time enough that time is well spent… 330 more words

Poetry

cv-6

“There is not one blade of grass, there is no colour in this world that is not intended to make us rejoice” – John Calvin… 36 more words

Photography

The Woodturner of Beccles

This illustrated feature on Contemporary Woodturner Andy Coates should be appearing in the next month or two.

I shot these images a couple of months back when I visited Andy’s workshop and gallery in Beccles. 34 more words

Suffolk

All An Anarchist Could Care

Such sweet soliloquies
Were wasted when
Jilted, jaded, jawless,
Wanton women wailed
Mindless melodies mostly
Lamenting long lost love

Someday siren songs
Will whisper where… 63 more words

Poetry