Birth Place: Rather like most really, out of my dear mother's womb. Could have been a stalk. I'll ask...
Aspirations: One of my dreams is to read my own work in public, bringing it alive to children, and igniting their imaginations...
Favourite Authors: Include,
Richard Bach, John Bunyan, Oswald Chambers, G K Chesterton, Winston Churchill, Anthony De Mello, Epictetus, Fr Laurance Freeman, Jack Gantos, C S Lewis, Henry Nouwen, John Main, Thomas Merton, Ronald Reagan, St John of the Cross, Jerry Spinelli, Hannah Whitthall-Smith, Oscar Wilde.
In my idle hours I enjoy reading and reading and yup reading. And I must confess, I do like to mosey along with words. Not that I've any great ambitions in my little world of poesy, but lurking somewhere in the forgotten and dusty areas of my mind are a few words, ah yes words that I like to put on paper as a form of therapy and relaxation. And if by some chance someone reads my words and may even admitt to liking some of my jargon, even having a laugh at my expense then it's not been entirely a waste of time, furthermore it increases to my private pleasure, of this little secret of mine, or even my little hobby when the mood takes me.
Sitting by the lake across the road, throwing bread at ungrateful ducks, and jotting down notes that I can't decipher when I get home.
Oftentimes I write in first person, for effect, not because it's biographical.
Many, so many thanks for the honest reviews, that have helped me improve this wonderful art, of which we share our mutual love of Gods gift of creativity....
The support for the injustice of a father and son is and has been overwhelming. You have kept me sane-ish.
Achievments: Ah yes achievements: Saved the planet by using tesco re-usable bags.
Being born; no can't claim that one. Even though I was the first sperm... I never had a hand in it.
Love, love, love cooking, if it's in the fridge, it's in the wok.
Never food poisoned myself, but I'm sure there's still time to change that.
Does being top goalscorer for the English Martyrs FC under 12's count. We'd get beat 15- 3 yup guess who scored.
A book of poems, published by palace poetry. I think the editors blind, or very desperate.
How Did The Fat Rat Do That?
Stories in a delightful Childrens thingy called Whimsy.
In more anthologies than there are grains of sand in the Sahara.
It's not that I don't like to boast, I just have nothing to boast about.