Wild Horses to Brazil — with your help

**Art Patrons One and All — Composer extraordinaire needs your HELP ** Some exciting news about music, poetry and where small adventures can go. Keith Moss, a friend from my orchestra days who is also an award-winning composer has been invited to premiere a full orchestral work in Brazil at a prestigious festival. The workContinue reading “Wild Horses to Brazil — with your help”

Fenstone’s Flower

Another short story from the hip. Fenstone’s Flower Fenstone was in his favourite pottering spot for a not quite warm, though there be some sunlight day. He had finished washing the Saturday breakfast crockery and cutlery, scraping down the plates of scrambled egg residue and croissant crumbs. This was Peggy and Fenstone’s Saturday morning treatContinue reading “Fenstone’s Flower”

Another short story

ScrapsYard.com | Congratulations | Forward this Picture Here is another short story completed for the exercise of completion. This tale developed in response to a balloon in a florist’s van. I’m also love to hear your ideas for story prompts. Please share them with me by dropping a line below. Hand-tie Harry arrives at 11amContinue reading “Another short story”

Gone are the cars

A short story, written in one sitting this afternoon (and I confess, not yet thoroughly proofed). This post is offered in the spirit of completion energy and is inspired by my current read, Jurgen Wolff’s “Your Creative Writing Masterclass” (Nicholas Brealey, 2012). The poem weaves together last night’s dream, some thoughts spurred by Earth Day andContinue reading “Gone are the cars”

War through a painter’s eye

Sometimes I write material other than poetry. Here is an extract from a recent article I wrote about a young man who served during World War I. He had worked as a graphic designer and was fond of reciting poetry. “Even his father was surprised when Julian Gould enlisted in 1915. Gould had gone toContinue reading “War through a painter’s eye”

It grows ever darker: autumn evenings

During the first months of posting on my blog in 2012, I opened this short piece with a reminiscence about the red creepers that draped my undergraduate university during autumn. I went on to comment on the dark evenings that enclose this season in the Northern hemisphere — I tweet much more when I’m inContinue reading “It grows ever darker: autumn evenings”

The Visit, or The Arrival of the Thing

There is a well-known Afrikaans short story Die Gog (The Thing) about an unidentified creature nursed and doted upon by a couple. The thing (die gog) is kept in a box, feed and protected. Eventually the couple’s mutual obsession destroys their relationship. This serves as an imagined prelude to the un-dramatic domestic tragedy of DieContinue reading “The Visit, or The Arrival of the Thing”

The Faint Smell of Jasmine

A short story from some time ago: It is a long climb up the stony mountain, through biting mists and pounding midday sun. From the crevices mountain flowers cheer the weary and tumbling water droplets happily refresh those travellers who whisper of their thirst. The higher the climb, the more the climber’s bones and musclesContinue reading “The Faint Smell of Jasmine”

Forthcoming

In a couple of future posts, I shall be sharing some longer pieces of writing that have been gathering dust. Fear not, the poems will continue to be around. Dear readers, I hope that you’ll enjoy all the words on offer. Yours, BQ — T: @BeadedQuill F: BeadedQuill Books by BeadedQuill