'Words are like breath' says a character in the Bernard Cornwell novel, The Pale Horseman. 'You say them and they're gone. But writing traps them.'
His story was set in 9th century Britain when the written word was seen as a form of magic that could capture
+ more bio informationToo Easy Take me in slowly, don't let me fall You know I need loving but that ain't all Don't know my future but you know my past None of my plans ever seem to last Don't let me fly, don't let me crash Don't say you love me if you know it won't last Don't buy no presents, don't tell me no lies No way of knowing where our fut...
Tightropes I've tried everything I can to shake you from my mind Long walks in the morning or drink in the evening until I'm blind But every time I do there's a new picture of you Still hang on each rumour or second-hand news of what you do I walk on tightropes, I lean on the wind I play Russian roulette on a telephone dial ...
The downside of maturity is atrophy. Of course, this statement is based on the assumption that one becomes more mature the older one gets. In my case, that ain't necessarily so. As far as having a mature outlook on life is concerned, I think I peaked a long time ago. But the atrophy oh yes, that's definitely happening. For m...
IN TIMES LIKE THESE I went away to the wildest places Filled my vision with sweet new faces And I learned how to live in my own terrain But all the time in the back of my mind Thinking back to the former good times So afraid that I'd never see you again And all the days that took so long To pass us by when things went wrong ...
War On The night is warm, you can feel the pressure The streets are screaming with a hundred police cars There's a raid going on, there's been some misdemeanour There's a sound of glass breaking and alarm bells ringing There's a war on There's a war on Well the folks on the hill keep their curtains closed Turn the TV up loud...
Waiting for the Rain My father turned his head and said to me I've heard strange tales of white horses in the sea I shook my head and silently replied I had two horses, now both of them have died My farm produces no more grain I'm sitting waiting for the rain I woke up with the dawn and left my home Walked ten miles to the s...
The Warwick Folk Festival bus is not an everyday sight. The music festival takes place in the historic UK town every Summer and the vehicle trundles through the streets every 20 minutes, ferrying festival-goers from the main stage site at the edge of town to the various pubs, precincts and hotels that host festival events in...
Public relations is about boosting your relationship with the people who matter. In many cases, the people who matter are the news media. It is not uncommon for organisations to miss out on positive media coverage because they haven't properly addressed the needs of journalists and editors. Part of the battle is to understan...
IN YOUR EYES Here while I sing no soul will rest In the dark abysmal wilderness Even the toads and bats and lice Will enter into paradise I am the master, I am the slave, I am the flower on your grave I am the good man, I am the bad, I am the man you never had Mine is the face in the fire, Mine is the eye in the sun Yours is...
Foundations "To build on these foundations," said the self- styled architect, leaning elbow on shelf, rapping rough bleeding knuckles on bricks of no dust and kicking stacked heels on grills free of rust "is the work of a lifetime, a task to achieve on a base reinforced by the things I believe; I succeed, am content and the ...
Pete Willow
Brinklow, Warwickshire GB
Member since: January 2008
Articles Written: 101
Writers Invited: 1