A diary of features and events from my beautiful crystal shop, Crystal Space, in Silsden, West Yorkshire. Friday, 22 March 2013. Welcome to spring! Its been a quiet time in the shop since the new year. The cold winter months of January and February are always the hardest for shops everywhere. I have noticed that on sunny days I do see more customers. And now its end of March and still snowing! Some changes in shop opening hours. On Facebook and also the main websit.

To love and honour myself. I breathed in and leapt. Free of the long time shackles. Without HIS bullying and lies. Pips fall to the earth. Was I gone too long.

Shadows, dark and devouring, lurking on every street. Friday, 27 December 2013. The Rucksack Project, Bradford. One day early in November my wife, Ally. Approached me with tears in her eyes. One of her friends had posted The Rucksack Project video. On a Facebook group that she belongs to and it had moved her profoundly. She asked me to watch it and I did. Within minutes we had agreed that we needed to create a Rucksack Project event near to home.

Talons grip on outstretched limbs. Stream trickling through the forest. Night time casts its net of stars. Gambolling white hare and fawn. Rest at silvered river bank. Light slumbers beneath wet sticks. Sleep falling away like dust. He spies a wan maid.

Meine deutschsprachige Freunden und Freundinnen sind, wie immer, eingeladen, um mein Deutsch hier zu korrigieren. Vergessen sah im Buch ich liegen. Ein Blümchen, das den Duft verlor;.

Vanishing snow, first rays. O glaring summer heat,. Your wheat is ripening,. Swirling the leaves of gold. There flows your wine,. Sheltered abides your flower,. Rooted in grounds of old. Timeless ocean of stars,.

And written in the first. An open letter to Gwynedd County Council and Plaid Cymru. Charity begins at home? The Social networking micro-bubble. The government have completely lost the plot and forgotten about the single parent. A Personal Exploration of Self-Harm. I Have Been Her Kind. 2012-New Year, new outlook.

Art and Soul, Ink - Soul Writes. This is my pen,. And this is how I behave,. So my pen plays the game,. And let my pen bleed blood. I grew up in the street,. And unbeknownst to me,. I learnt to be a thief,. I block my door with a set of bricks,. I live in a good area,. But my mentality remains fear-first,.