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DR reading "Epona" on Linda Thomas's Book Show - Radio Scilly 17 June 2019

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This is my own edit of an appearance I made on Radio Scilly last month. I've been a frequent visitor to the islands for twenty-five years, and they feature a lot in my work.

Linda Thomas is Scilly's estimable librarian, and it's great to be able to give her this shout-out as she's been a real champion of my work for several years now. The show itself was a blast (although you may not get that f...

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CornwallfolklorehorsesmythsrocksScillystonesWest Country


Under the yellow-green of sunlit beech

between banks of bluebells' hazy blue

where supple crosiers of new fern reach             

over verdant moss still damp with dew

a grassy lane runs beside the river


In the mystic quiet of a leafy dome

of grey bark ash, beech and mighty oak

a far cuckoo calls the dryads home

but we pass unseen by woodland folk

'til tylwyth teg w...

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ashbeechfairiesfolkloreLlyfnant Valleymossmythologyoakriversstreamstreestylwyth tegwaterfallswoods

Dha Kro’z Ov Al-bi-an

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Dha Kro’z Ov Al-bi-an

(Tak’n frum ‘Dha Book Ov Kro’z’)

Koww Koww Koww
Wit wich hurd mi ple -
Kum down in hur
sno dres fin’ery.

Koww Koww Koww
“Giv mi vois”, sez I,
“For Kro iz sik ov
ra’ging at gray ski”

Koww Koww Koww
“I wish mi song be hurd,
tune’ful as a
prit’i lit’l burd”
“No, No”, sa she
“Nev’ar such a thing -
for u ar blak ov hart -
as blak of wing”

“I se u on ...

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bird songcrowscrows of albionearth magicfairy talefolkloremagic


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the woods are dark and tangled
and the moonlight jangles white
along a twisted stony path
that leads away into the nowhere
a howling fills the stillness
overflowing like a scrabble
of beetles on porcelain tiles
in the shadows sits a something
with its head a leather pumpkin
oozing cherry-soda pus
and mewling for its mother
who is stalking just behind you
as you stumble thro...

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Hobby Horses Will Dance

My new collection of poetry, Hobby Horses Will Dance, is available from book shops £5. A collection based on folklore and nature.ISBN 978-0-9929685-1-9

Old Ninth


Blod monath arrived

shrouded in mist and

winter chill.

Soon the firewood

would be stacked

and the cattle


And when All Saints

and All Souls had passed,

Mischief Night gone

and even befo...

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Threshold bride


It stands the ground

Rock aligned to castle

Monstrous figure of a rise


Bell legends  of fog and mist lovers

What was there?

Is it an uncertain faith?


Go to sleep

What no speech


Form lady grey, no green   with evil eyes

Done and be done


She sits face to face

Sits on the company

Blade raised in vivid

She burns the w...

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