Poems and thoughts from the walking poet

Dear reader,

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It has been a busy weekend for me. On Friday I travelled by train to Cardiff, my old town and the place of my birth. I attended the George Ewart Evans Centre for Storytelling at The University of South Wales. I have attended many Storytelling events at this very busy and knowledgable building over the years. The event was called “Storytelling and the Environment” and was organised by Professor Joseph Stobol and Jeanette D’ Arcy. I attended three events and listened to wonderful storytellers and people who care about their own environment. Also other artists, dance artists and film-makers. It was lovely to see and chat with fab storyteller, Cath Little.

Later I performed my epic poem “Pits to Parks” from memory. This poem was originally two pages long and was published in “How Black was our Valley” in 2013. “Pits to Parks” is now 60 pages. However…

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Monday 19th May 5:15am. Watching the sun rise from my garden.

Monday 19th May 5:15am. Watching the sun rise from my garden.

My front garden faces east so i can watch the sun rising every day.
For the past 7 years I have had blue tits nesting on the front of my house. Sitting still i observe them flitting back and forth, i can also hear their young.
To my left i have a small Greek table where i scatter bird seeds, two chaffinches are helping them selves. The blackbird is looking for food among my wild flower garden. I hear the cuckoo, normally i have to walk a mile to hear its haunting but comforting song. The sun climbs night time to bring day light, casting warm rays to my garden.