Monthly Archives: May 2018

Ronovan writes #Haiku #202 Fragile – heartbeat


barely a heartbeat

passing before a mayfly

loses fragile wings


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Hive & Keeper: Putting British honey, the bees and the beekeepers back on the map

Not only do we get a great taste experience it may encourage the saving of our bees.

Life & Soul Magazine

British honey is a reflection of the magical isle that the bees inhabit – rich, diverse and spectacular with the taste, colour and textures varying widely, from dark brown to almost white, from spicy to nutty and fruity, and from runny smooth to set with a granular bite. Honouring the colourful and epic journey of the bees, and capturing their essence in their most natural state is Emily Abbott, London beekeeper and founder of Hive & Keeper.

Hive & Keeper pays homage to the diversity of British honey by offering consumers limited-edition British raw honeys from small-scale beekeepers. Each honey is taken straight from the hive, left as the bees made it and in its purest state. Each jar of honey provides a snapshot in time of the bees, landscape and weather.

What started as a hobby for the south London born-and-raised Emily Abbott has now turned into a business. “I started beekeeping…

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Thursday photo prompt: Avenue #writephoto


It was the time of Sennei again. We stand in our lines,  along the avenue known as the windwhistle corridor, males to the left, females to the right.

We all lean forward holding our magnificent freshly green head-dresses steady. Having practised our lines for many days we bow low and whisper our self-composed love sonnets in the allocated ear of our chosen intended.

Each of us males has a rival with whom we stand shoulder to shoulder facing a selected female, hoping that the young future brides would choose us. If she cannot make a decision between the two beaus chosen for her then duels will have to take place. The prize, a bride with whom to mate and procreate.

For now, while the breeze is gentle the only sound that the people walking between us would hear is the familiar, soft rustling  of the leaves. All oblivious to the seriousness of the ritual taking place above their heads.

If a duel becomes necessary then the pair have to wait until there is a gale. Each tree is lashed against his opponent till one gives way. Some of these duels become quite violent with the occasional loss of limbs, even death by uprooting but this is rare as it would not gain anything for the species only the victor.

Most of the time the females are able to choose the strongest of the pair and accept the gentle brushing of their pistils with our anthers containing the fertilising pollen.

Now the wind plays another important role as the seeds may be carried far away from the avenue to land in another inviting area of ground, take root  and at the mercy of the grazing deer or rabbits attempt to start a new plantation of trees. In time they will have their own Sennei in their own avenues.

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Filed under As you read it, Flash fiction, nature inspired, Self compositions, Whimsical

For the diary


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May 16, 2018 · 3:58 pm

Late reminder for 25-27 May 2018


Stop Press! We are very sad that  Toby Martinez de las Rivas has had to withdraw from the festival. We very much hope he will join us next year.  However, we are delighted to announce that we have been able to fill that vacant slot to read alongside Holly Corfield Carr with the wonderful Elisabeth Sennitt Clough.

Stop Press!  Sadly, Kelvin Corcoran has had to withdraw due to ill heath, and Heather Phillipson due to her London Underground Project.  Plymouth’s Kenny Knight will step in to read with Andrew Brewerton, while Falmouth-based David Devanny will now join the closing reading with Mark Ford and Eilean ni Chuilleanain.



Welcome to BMPF Seven. We have joined with a wide variety of partners to make this year even more varied and exciting. Our line-up of poets runs from the newest voices on the block to some of the UK’s most established and respected figures.  We continue to explore poetry’s relationship with dance, and we once again celebrate the centenary of a 20th century great, this time W.S Graham, a Scottish poet who lived most of his adult life in Cornwall.

Our readings and workshops range from the traditional to the experimental, from the local primary school to the Celtic fringes.  We draw out the art of book illustration, the relationship between a great poet and his artist friends, and the poet as the artist.

We move from the dialect of the Black Country to Spain, from Cardiff via Beat & Black Mountain to poetry on film, from the Moomins to memes as we savour the many marvellous voices poetry can inhabit.

Our chief partner this year is Guillemot Press, along with clinic, Periplum and Shearsman, all small independent presses so vital in continuing to pump the life-blood around poetry’s system.  We are also working with Hillfort Primary School, and both Plymouth and Falmouth Universities, as they encourage our future generations of poets. We look forward to seeing you.

Ann Gray and David Woolley

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Bardic harmony

A shimmer of notes

cascades like a waterfall

onto chiming stones

a harp player’s ecstasy

harmony of the ancients

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Colleen’s Weekly #Tanka Tuesday #Poetry Challenge No. 81, DIGNITY & SUCCESS, #SynonymsOnly



A Royal wedding

nobility is endowed

a rare achievement.

The world in wonder at the

splendour of the occasion


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RonovanWrites #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge #201 Body&Art

For most tattooists

the body is their canvas

art unforgiven

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E haiku

Long ears in the grass

snarling dogs strain at the leash

darkness on the downs

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Sue Vincent’s Thursday photo prompt: Fallen #writephoto


Weary after the strenuous afternoon hike through the hot Greek countryside David and Julie lay down to rest in an effort to escape the relentless Mediterranean sun. David heard his partner’s shallow breathing slowly turn to a gentle snore. He found that he couldn’t sleep, he had the nagging feeling that they were being watched.

Warily he sat up and scanned the valley below. Sure enough, he thought he could see movement. He realised it was an old woman slowly picking her way through the undergrowth. She appeared to be carrying a bundle or basket on her head.

He reached out his left arm and shook Julie gently awake. She remained lying as he pointed out the old woman to her. David thought he would call out and see if the old woman was ok, it was very hot in the afternoon sun. Both of them called out, peering in her direction. There was no reply but they watched her as she started to get closer.

David realised his mistake when he noticed the bundle on her head appeared to be moving. His last thought was disbelief when he saw that her hair was in fact a writhing mass of snakes.


Filed under As you read it, Flash fiction, Inspired by fable, Self compositions