Over

thoughts fly free as I drive
further further
weights taking off
as the miles roll under me
the wheels turning
over over
I cross the water
the ropes that bind me
are cut free
and I return
to me
little
by
little
as
I
fly
again.

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A Dark Pool (inspired by Laura Knight)

The wind spins around her. The hairs on her arms bristle – the heat of the summer has been lost. Her feet cling to the rocks, hardened and worn after a summer spent scrabbling over rocks, searching for shells and crabs.

This is the first time that she has been alone in a while and she relishes it.

The sea swirls around her and she stares into the dark pool where the water spins, crashing against the rocks, spraying her feet and making her shiver. She watches the water swirl, mesmerized, and then from beneath her dress she takes the letters and tears them into shreds, scattering them onto the waves, watching the ocean swallow them and the pieces disappear, like ash floating on the wind.

Poem Scribbled on a Clifftop

Spring sun beats down
on my face, waves crash
below
it’s easy to kid ourselves
that summer is nearly here
as we go barefoot in the water.
Up here, the wind is on
my face
my shadows lengthen
seagulls screech up above
and out at sea the water
rocks back and forth.
There is still a chill in the air
and two hopeful surfers bob
out at sea, watching the waves
waiting for the perfect break.
I climb and climb
Until the people on the sand
Are like pin heads.

The Itch

feeling an itch, a longing to be there again
to be down by the sea
standing on those cliffs
and feeling the sea breeze on my face
yes I’m by the sea here
but it’s not quite the same
it’s not my place of dreams
my place of magic and wonder
I need to be there again
to digest, to breathe
to just be
I need to go home.

Saltash Morning

The sun is warm on my feet

and I sit, back against a wall

listening to the birds twittering in the trees

and the gentle hum of traffic

plays in the disnace.

The water’s edge is nearby

and the sound of a boat horn

fills the air. A cat prowls

Across the grass, dew clinging to its paws,

sunlight drowning it, as the day begins.

A Week in Cornwall

I’m just back from another week in Cornwall. I’ve done well this year, totalling up a whole month in my favourite place in the world. Consequently, thanks to exploring further afield, I know a lot more places and can navigate my way round the county pretty successfully – and probably better than Sussex!

This trip didn’t involve a visit to my beloved Fowey (shockingly – but I’m saving it, maybe for October, and anyway it was Regatta Week there!), but we did venture nearby. Here are some of the highlights of the trip.

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Part Three: Fowey

And then onto Fowey. Arriving in Fowey was like coming home. It’s wonderful to have that familiar feeling of coming back to a place you know and love, and where you’ve been happy.

It was a wonderful contrast to St Ives too and such a different landscape! It made me appreciate it all the more. I was glad to finally arrive, and to have my own space again after hostels and new adventures. It was nice to return to something that I knew.

Of course, it was Festival Week and so there were plenty of people about. It was great to catch up with all the Stewards again (I was stewarding for the third time!) and see many other familiar faces around the town! There’s a great atmosphere about, especially during festival week, with so many people returning specifically for the week – and to celebrate du Maurier.

I enjoyed a range of different events. Highlights included The Bookshop Band and Dr Laura Varnam’s discussion group on Julius. There was also a great How to Get Published event that I stewarded – as well as plenty of other interesting events! I’m already looking forward to next year… (although of course I hope to get back to Fowey before then…).

As always, it was near impossible to leave after a wonderful week, and I was sad to leave a very sunny Fowey behind. Until next time!

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On a side note, on my way down to Cornwall, I finally managed to stop off at Jamaica Inn and check out the du Maurier museum there. It was suitably eerie -with grey overcast skies and rain (although this picture was taken as the rain cleared!). I was glad to have finally visited that iconic part of du Maurier history – it’s well worth a visit if you’re passing by.

 

 

 

Part Two: St Ives

I then headed down to St Ives for a few days. It was my first visit to the town and I’d been wanting to visit for a long time. So I headed on down the coast to the town (in pouring rain!). I stayed in this wonderful surf friendly hostel in the centre of town, and minutes walk from the high street and the beaches.

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