Robin

Alone

by Edgar Allan Poe From childhood’s hour I have not been As others were — I have not seen As others saw — I could not bring My passions from a common spring — From the same source I have not taken My sorrow — I could not awaken My heart to joy at theContinue reading “Alone”

Bright Star

by John Keats Bright star, were I as stedfast as thou art — Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night And watching, with eternal lids apart, Like nature’s patient, sleepless Eremite, The moving waters at their priestlike task, Of pure ablution round earth’s human shores, Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask Of snowContinue reading “Bright Star”

If music be the food of love . . .

How often do you hear people say: “You either loved the Beatles or you loved the Rolling Stones. It had to be one or the other, you couldn’t like both.”? I’ve heard it over and over again for over 50 years and these days I hear it from people who weren’t born at the timeContinue reading “If music be the food of love . . .”

I Do Not Speak

by Stevie Smith I do not ask for mercy, for understanding and peace And in these heavy days I do not ask for release I do not ask that suffering shall cease. I do not pray to God to let me die To give an ear attentive to my cry To pause in his marchingContinue reading “I Do Not Speak”

All at sea and having fun

Despite college and work and the theatre I did manage to get some social activities in. The Rhyl Yacht Club was a regular watering hole for Roger and myself. We had others of course, including the Clwyd opposite the club where we were both members of the darts team for a few years. But FridayContinue reading “All at sea and having fun”

Greater Love

by Wilfred Owen Red lips are not so red As the stained stones kissed by the English dead. Kindness of wooed and wooer Seems shame to their love pure. O love, your eyes lose lure When I behold eyes blinded in my stead! Your slender attitude Trembles not exquisite like limbs knife-skewed, Rolling and rollingContinue reading “Greater Love”

Newspaper bosses kept it in the family

After my first trip to the print works Peter began to take me there on a regular basis and I got to know not just the printers and journalists but also the directors. What had begun in the 19th century, as a publishing company, Woodall, Minshall and Thomas, at Caxton Press in Oswestry, and laterContinue reading “Newspaper bosses kept it in the family”

A Thousand Martyrs Have I Made

by Aphrah Behn A thousand Martyrs have I made, All sacrific’d to my desire; A thousand Beauties have betray’d, That language in resistless Fire. The untarri’d Heart to hand I brought, And fixt the wild and wandring Thought. I never vow’d nor sigh’d in vain But both, thô false, were well receiv’d. The Fair areContinue reading “A Thousand Martyrs Have I Made”

Stereotype – it’s such a cliché

Printing presses were not foremost in my mind when I decided on my future as a reporter. I knew about the principles of printing having once had a John Bull printing outfit. Not, of course, that this childish toy was ever designed to introduce people to the real joys of printing. To learn more thanContinue reading “Stereotype – it’s such a cliché”

The Field Mouse

by Gillian Clarke Summer, and the long grass is a snare drum. The air hums with jets. Down at the end of the meadow, far from the radio’s terrible news, we cut the hay. All afternoon its wave breaks before the tractor blade. Over the hedge our neighbour travels his field, in a cloud ofContinue reading “The Field Mouse”