Monthly Archives: December 2012

40 POSTS IN 2012


This is the time of year when writers review their achievements, so here’s my short review:

I taught myself how to blog. I don’t yet understand all the intricacies, but I did  it, and I didn’t find it easy. I think I’ve got something to build on….like incorporating photographs, for example.

This is my fortieth post since May so that amounts to 40 short verses so far. Yes, I kept going!

I started a TWITTER account, and wrote some very short verses. It’s a challenge to write something that make sense AND rhymes, in so few words, but a few of  them are quite least I think so!

I carried on writing short stories and spent quite a lot of time making notes for my novel. I wrote 30,000 words of that  but will probably have to start again from scratch.

I only attended one writing workshop in Birmingham during the course of 2012, but from that I wrote a short story NO ONE WILL COME, which was accepted by two publications. [The first took so long to reply, that I resubmitted to a second.] I felt encouraged!

Thinking of 2013, I’d like to finish the novel and have estimated that I would need to spend at least 4 hours a day up in my attic working on it. That’s some committment of time with no guarantee of publishing success…but I tell myself that I HAVE done a lot of the groundwork….

I’d also like to produce a themed collection of my poetry…but I haven’t yet chosen a theme. I’m not working hard enough to produce really good verse, I’m just skimming over the surface, so I’m hoping to improve my technique….



The old year is fading

in floods and drenching rain.

I’m glad to see the back of it.

It cannot come again.









Where did November go, I wonder?  I never achieved my target of writing 30 poems, my output was even less  than usual! I did continue to write some Twitter poetry, but none of that exceeds 160 characters. Still, writing such short verse does concentrate the mind.

So, continuing with the short and sweet theme, here are three  short catch up poems.


I burned your letters as you asked

now there’s only ash

and the odd remembered flash

of pain.



Green sloping lawn

with spiky edges

grey sky

two people hunched

squinting  in to the distance

not speaking.

Impossible day.




I light a candle for you

as dusk falls

and then these walls


and here we are

not far from one another

looking up at

a star.