It must be jelly ...

It must be jelly my dad is singing - because jam don't shake like that - 

My mum is turning the pages of The Mail on Sunday - 

She's reading a two page spread about a dodgy duke - 

It's almost half past four - 

Dave and Ashlee are having a barbecue in their back garden - 

Soon be time to make a sandwich my dad says - 

Did you stay last night? he asks - 

No I say - we came this morning - we took you to church - 

Ah he says - of course - 

16.30

Sunday 31 July 2016

Staunton Road

Havant 

Saint Cuthbert's Chapel ...

Inside the chapel, I was unable to hear the sea - 

No birds entered here - 

Thick walls enclosed long years of memory - 

Angels were carved out of dark wood -  

Prayers from austere mouths had touched the edge of heaven - 

Bright ships had carried kings - 

Centuries had passed by in a single breath - 

Silence fell upon me like a cloak of feathers - 

13.40

Monday 25 July 2016

St Cuthbert's Chapel 

Inner Farne 

Northumbria

Alnwick Gold ...

The Olde Ship Inn overlooked the harbour - 

Herring gulls prowled the sea front - 

Their yellow beaks were like tiny switch blades - 

One snatched a burger from a kiddie's hand our landlady had told us - 

Before we boarded Serenity 2 for Inner Farne, there was time to consider sipping Alnwick Gold - 

I'd sit amongst old fishermen, baptised by roughened hands - 

I'd hear words in an old language - 

The sea would cast up bleached trees - 

11.05

Monday 25 July 2016

The Olde Ship Inn

Seahouses

Northumbria 

The bull ...

Just beyond the gate we could see the cows - 

Amongst them was a bull - 

My heart raced - 

There was the sign on the metal gate, bull in field - 

I remembered the stories I'd heard about bulls - 

Boys were being tossed over tall hedges Alyson had said - 

They smashed gates to pieces Julia said - 

Yet this was the way we had to go - 

Martin scanned the wide field with his binoculars - 

The bull's very muscular he said - 

It's like the Minotaur Alyson said - 

Gingerly, we crossed the field - 

But the bull ignored us, potent, unpredictable, magnificent in his shining skin - 

11.45

Wednesday 27 July 2016

Swinhoe Lakes

Northumbria

The deer ...

Walking away from the sea, we saw a deer -

It was gone in an instant, smelling our scent -

I saw its magical shape for less than two heartbeats - 

It floated above the field as though it were in a painting by Marc Chagall - 

The ripening wheat left no trace of its passing - 

Behind us were the sands of the wide bay - 

Clouds darkened the sky - 

The sea was a pale blue road to Lindisfarne - 

14.17

Tuesday 27 July 2017

South of Budle Bay

Northumberland 

Inner Farne ...

Late June, early July, there are Guillemots here shoulder to shoulder - 

The wiry Geordie had pale blue eyes - 

Serenity 2 drew near Inner Farne - 

There are Jumplings here then he said - 

The cliffs are black with birds -

In the winter we sail to Lindisfarne - we see waders and Godwits - 

The boat turned into the wind - 

I could see St Cuthbert's Chapel - 

Puffins flew crazily above the waves - 

When the visitors left, gentle ghosts would bless the seabirds - 

14.00

Monday 25 July 2016

Inner Farne

Dunstanburgh ...

We walked from Craster to Dunstanburgh before the rain - 

The first of the Alnwick Harriers ran past us - 

Lean girls loped over the grass towards the sea -  

The castle was a reef of dark stone - 

Broken towers overlooked the rocky shore - 

I climbed the winding stair of the gate house tower - 

The wind blew against my face - 

I heard kittiwakes calling from their cliffside nests - 

The bailey was overgrown with waist high grass - 

I gazed out over the sea from my high place - 

Clouds cast prayerful shadows upon the waves - 

11.19

Sunday 24 July 2016

Dunstanburgh 

Northumbria 

The singer had gathered up his songs ...

We sat in the bar remembering songs - 

It had been a day of music at The Cottage Arms - 

We'd heard the boozy guitars as we came up the hill - 

Burly drinkers lifted pints of Hidden Kingdom - 

Alyson said Whiter Shade of Pale was 1968 - 

In the morning, before breakfast, the garden would be empty - 

The pale sky would hide heaven -

The singer would have gathered up his songs -  

22.30

Saturday 23 July 2016

The Cottage Inn

Craster

 

The Quiz ...

After Name That Air it's time for cheese and pickle - 

The Quiz Master chuckled - 

And the third question was what type of sandwiches were Paddington's favourites ? - 

This is like being in The Exterminating Angel said Julia - 

This is a dangerous game I said - 

22.55

Friday 22 July 2016

The Warkworth Arms

Warkworth 

Northumbria

Beflagged with memory ...

I've cleaned the boats up like - there was terrible rain here yesterday - 

The young Geordie boatman handed me the oars -  

Two girls lolled upon the grass - 

A heron stretched its voracious neck - 

I rowed the bright boat upstream - 

We passed the mooring for the Hermitage - 

Trees overlooked the silent river - 

Penelope rowed downstream - 

Over the tops of the trees you could see the castle, beflagged with memory - 

14.45

Thursday 21 July 2016

Warkworth

Northumberland 

Troops are in excellent spirits ...

This is a bust of George Stephenson said the custodian - 

That's his son, Robert - he was never in the best of health - 

Davy called them mere engineers -  

Around us, readers turned the pages of obscure journals - 

We had a duck billed platypus -

The custodian smiled - it's now resting in The Hancock - 

We climbed up wrought iron spiral staircases to gaze at portraits of fearless divines - 

Words spilled from books like dark snowflakes - 

I looked at a bound copy of The Times for Monday July 3 1916 - 

Troops are in excellent spirits it said - 

15.12

Wednesday 20 July 2016

Literary & Philospical Society

Newcastle upon Tyne

Our skin is still salty, our hearts still eased ...

I've packed the black grip with boots, alpaca socks and checked shirts - 

Deo volente, I'm travelling north tomorrow with Penelope - 

I'm considering wearing a tweed cap - 

Looking up, I can see the young apples on the tree - 

The warm wind stirrs the shapely leaves - 

Dancing shadows are cast upon the grass - 

We remember swimming this afternoon - 

Our skin is still salty, our hearts still eased - 

16.58

Tuesday 19 July 2016

The Old School House

East Stoke

Dorset

 

The open mike starts in five minutes time ...

Sally met us when we arrived at Tolpuddle - 

She led us to their tent through the louche canvas village - 

Lean boys wore Cuban flags as cloaks - 

Sunburnt girls lolled upon the grass - 

Richard offered us dizzying cider -

 

Some friends rehearsed their music - 

A bare chested man played the double bass - 

A willowy girl played the ukulele -  

Another girl played a mandolin - 

The open mike starts in five minutes time 

Sally said - 

14.00

Saturday 18 July 2016

Tolpuddle Martyrs Festival 

Dorset

Waiting for Jeremy ...

We're waiting for Jeremy - 

The bright banners have been carried past Hammet's green bed - 

Old anthems have stirred our hearts - 

The fields around us remember the long hard years - 

The wind blows through the wheat -  

A boy sings the timeless words -

Joyous cornets sound - 

We will, we will, we will be free - 

16.00

Sunday 17 July 2016

Tolpuddle Martyrs Festival

Dorset 

I'm tripping on moonshine ...

The man in the red checked shirt is singing this land is my land - from the Bill of Portland to the Brownsea Island - 

The joyous boozy crowd is dancing -

Red banners catch the wind - 

The man's singing I want to be a cider drinking idiot -  

Silverbacks are swaying - 

Lean girls are showing their moves - 

Now he's singing there's a bad town on the coast - I bet you've got good car insurance - I hope you know those back streets well - 

I've been offered cider in a two handled jug - 

We're all roaring - 

The singer's roaring - 

Do you you want a song about badgers?

Anyone want a badger mask?

Anyone want some badger action?

Dancing like a big badger man!

I'm tripping on moonshine!

I'm going to feel good!

18.00

Saturday 16 July 2016

Tolpuddle Martyrs Festival

Dorset 

Moving it on ...

She's only done seventy Graham said - 

She could keep going for years - 

He put the Peugeot into gear - 

It's catching there he said - the clutch - 

It'll cost you - 

He smiled his wry uncertain smile - 

I'd do nothing if you're thinking of moving it on - 

10.30

Friday 15 July 2016

Wareham 

Dorset 

 

Inside the Switch House ...

Once inside the Switch House, I felt the magic of soaring glass - 

I climbed broad flights of stairs to galleries high above the South Bank -  

Lifts carried Japanese girls skywards - 

I lingered in halls of pristine concrete - 

I gazed at a dress made out of angels wings - 

I read the daily routine of a female rivet machine operator - 

Metal structures of unknown purpose caught my eye - 

I watched creatives gathering around strange installations - 

What thoughts, I wondered, did those elegant trilbies hold?

July 1 2016

Switch House

Tate Modern

London

A crown made of speedwell ...

A swallow flew above a field of windblown barley -

Rain fell from an uncertain sky - 

We were walking towards Winterbourne Abbas - 

Dark butterflies settled upon the long grass - 

Three horses watched us - 

Invisible kings held court upon the ridgeway - 

I saw tiny blue flowers amongst the barley - 

They're Speedwell Penelope said - 

I could weave myself a fragile crown, I thought - 

A speedwell crown would be fairer than one made of gold - 

11.30

Tuesday 13 July 2016

Conygar Meadow

Dorset 

 

I felt the sorrow of the raven, the joy of the skylark ...

When I opened the book, I saw my name - 

Christopher's Brid Book I read - 19 Sedgley Grove Gosport Hants - Saturday May 2nd 1959 - 

I'd gone to Miles Bookshop with an aunt - 

The courtly Mr Miles had placed The Observer's Book of Birds into my artless hand -

I was seven years old - 

The grey town was a boundless world - 

Heroes rode bicycles through the streets - 

Each night I would open my Book of Birds - 

Each bird for me was a character in a story -  

There was the noble kingfisher, there the morose comorant - 

I'd feel the sorrow of the raven, the joy of the skylark - 

17.15

Tuesday 12 July 2016

The Old School House

East Stoke

Dorset 

After swimming ...

I lay stretched out upon a bed of shells - 

My heart was still racing - 

My body remembered the wanton touch of the sea - 

I felt the wind against my skin - 

I tasted salt upon my tongue - 

I heard the waves break upon the ribbed sand - 

I wore no watch - 

There was a pale band around my wrist - 

16.00

Monday 11 July 2016

Knoll Beach

Studland 

Dorset