Author Archives: Terry Wassall

Breakfast

Breakfast cereal and a slice of toast Satchel ready with homework, books and lunch Sports afternoon, the one I like the most Better than sitting on the old school bench. Up late today so breakfasted in haste, Nine miles to … Continue reading

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Turning points

Moments of motion Changes of direction. Some turning points are obvious, Immediate. But many go unobserved, Disregarded minor deviations, small shifts That accumulate and compound over the years All tending in the same direction. A mounting surge of myriad small … Continue reading

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Lily Briscoe

Lily Briscoe is one of the main characters in Virgina Woolf’s 1927 novel To The Lighthouse.  The action of the novel takes place at the house on Sky that the Ramsey family rent every summer and share with a number … Continue reading

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The days are long and lend themselves to pleasure,

The days are long and lend themselves to pleasure, The nights are times to rest and take my ease. The years go by and I enjoy my leisure, A solitary life spent as I please. My shelves are full of … Continue reading

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Players and Masks

All the world’s a stage, said the Stratford Bard And we, my friends, are merely the players Dramatis personae, life’s foot soldiers We write and are written, given our parts We play the characters and speak their lines. The drama … Continue reading

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I’m Done (reflections on a dissolute life)

I think I’m done here. I’ve seen the things I wanted to see I’ve done the things I wanted to do. At least, I am reconciled to Not seeing or doing more. I’ve broken some hearts, I think. No one … Continue reading

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Aubade – Mourning

Cold and alone The nights without you are long Dawn, like my heart, breaks. Terry Wassall

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Solitary walking

I venture out for my permitted walk. A tentative glance to the left and right. Dog walker to the right, all clear to the left. Decision of direction made, I set off. Other decisions have already been made, my world … Continue reading

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The valley through time

For a year now he had been walking the tow path and exploring the Aire Valley between Apperley Bridge and Kirkstall, a 5 mile stretch of woodland, fields, river, canal and railway. It was part of his physical and mental … Continue reading

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The Gust of Wind

                          The wind of change came as a gentle breeze. No one seemed to notice the darkening clouds gathering in the East, threatening the day. Then the shutters … Continue reading

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