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Travels around a headland - gardens, arty thoughts and pictures.

Dear reader,

While the gardening world pours over Chelsea, I pour over art, gardens, hills, vales and sea.


On the Lleyn near Rhiw
This Art Nouvaux room with its fireplace in a cottage made for two.

I am nearly dead like Gilbert and George.
Taught once by a Royal Academician
With a balding head
He told me that I could draw better than him
By way of encouragement
But not my path then.

Now my path brings me to this small den
A break away from the valley
And the rigour of waiting
As a painting of mine travels to Crickhowell.

Each time an artist or poet writes or draws a line
They hope it will carry them to a place of love acceptance and even praise
Much like the two men hung with medals for being one voice of rebellion
It's all fake really - our rebellion
We all need rest and sweet dreams.


Peninsular Tales

There are those that would always overshadow
But they are shadows of my own making

I had no sweet dreams
Just murderous ones here in this room
Calling for help w…

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