Monday, September 16, 2019

The Hidden Boy

April 15, 2010 by  
Filed under Prose

School was enjoyed especially football and all sports. The one fly in the ointment was music lessons. Singing caused me more heartache than everything else combined. Totally tone deaf, unable even to harmonise, always the inevitable ‘You lad, you, you,. and you. I can do nothing for you, out into the yard, pick up all […]

The Deep Black Shadow

April 15, 2010 by  
Filed under Prose

The doorway filled with a deep black shadow, and the great figure of the huge grey stallion entered the small stable, head held high, nostrils flared, sniffing the air, seeking out whatever had invaded his space. In the hayrack above the manger the small boy drew back in fear as the huge animal ambled up, […]

Reading The River

April 15, 2010 by  
Filed under Prose

Lulled to sleep by the pleasant murmur of the river as it prattled and chortled over the shallows, the two boys slept the sleep of the young. Their makeshift camp, just an old scrap of tarpaulin held up by a stick at each corner, enabled them to look out in every direction, for it had […]

Leaving The Cup And Saucer Tree

April 15, 2010 by  
Filed under Prose

In the middle of all this enjoyable childhood, sudden disaster. My father lost his job on the estate and of course, no job, no house. A move followed and, although it was only about four miles to the adjoining village of Trefeglwys, it seemed another world. The house itself was a station house, Pwll Glas […]

Lancing the Whitlow.

April 14, 2010 by  
Filed under Prose

Strange how the cold weather always affected the first finger on my right hand, circulation seems to be the problem, the old man mused as he rubbed the finger to get rid of the numbness. Stranger still that it was only now after more than 70 years,that it was causing problems. Gazing down on the […]

Juvenile Poachers

April 14, 2010 by  
Filed under Prose

The largest river in Wales, the River Severn, in the far off days of my youth, curled it’s lazy way through fields of Butter Cups and Daisies, it’s banks alternating between steep sides and sandy shores, from deep forbidding pools, to murmuring bubbling shallows, where cattle stood knee deep, cud chewing and their tails swishing […]

In The Beginning

April 14, 2010 by  
Filed under Prose

The image of the Cup and Saucer tree dominated my early childhood. I was born in the village of Caersws in the county of Montgomeryshire on the 1st December 1919. My home was a small old black and white cottage in Bridge Streettoday. I remember little of this cottage. and is still lived in My […]

A red car, small dog, orange mailbox

April 14, 2010 by  
Filed under Prose

At last a chance to relax, recharge his mind, and body, perhaps later to start research on his next project. These thoughts occupied the mind of author Dafydd Morgan, winner of the book of the year prize, a second success in four years. Now that all the presentation awards, endless book signings were over, he […]

A Place Of Safety

April 14, 2010 by  
Filed under Prose

For more than seventy years, I have kept secret my faith in that beautiful tree and in all that time it has never failed me. In times of great stress,and sometimes great danger,i simply climb up into its branches, letting my mind absorb its magic, and I know I am safe in its embrace. As […]

A Child Remembers

April 14, 2010 by  
Filed under Prose

The ornate gates, and imposing pillars, erected in memory of all who died in WW1, now also for WW2 ,and those who gave their lives in all wars since. A fitting cenotaph where the people of Oswestry, Shropshire, England, could meet to show their respect and gratitude to the fallen. On this day we met […]

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