Archery has one great thing going for it…it’s an open sport, where beginners can often mix with Olympic level archers at competitions. It also attracts a mix of characters with...
Some people think their club is run by a load of old jobsworths. They should worry. I’ve been leafing through the rule book of the Old Farnworth and Royton Toxophily...
Ever wondered how the bow was invented? It’s lost in the mists of time, as they say, but I’ve an idea how it might have come about….. Og sat near...
When my daughter Claire and son-in-law Steven decided to marry, they chose the extraordinarily beautiful Lake District as the location for their wedding ceremony. Steven hired a hotel – the...
This short poem reflects the fact that both my son Andrew and I write poetry and sometimes collaborate on our poems. I have often wondered whether this ability is inherited....
Alfie is my grandson, Olivia’s younger brother. In this poem, written when Alfie was two years old (less than a thousand suns), the longer lines enfold the shorter ones to...
It is a villanelle written for my granddaughter, Olivia, with a nod to Dylan Thomas (see the start of the fifth tercet.) He, of course, wrote one of the most...
The first poem I wrote as an adult was for my daughter, Claire Louise. We were going to name her Samantha, but thankfully changed our minds. (Try rhyming Samantha with...
This was inspired by the 30th anniversary of the first moon landing and written for my son Andrew, who watched the historic event on a battered old black and white...
