The slow return of the ocean in Gunwalloe Cove, Lizard Peninsula, Cornwall. The cliffs off in the distance, the unseen surfers sleeping beneath them, waiting for the perfect wave.
The slow return of the ocean in Gunwalloe Cove, Lizard Peninsula, Cornwall. The cliffs off in the distance, the unseen surfers sleeping beneath them, waiting for the perfect wave.
There's someone there I need to meet
He's a lonely figure
A shoe that causes blisters
A stone that leaves blood on your feet.
There's someone there I need to meet
He's a lonely figure
A shoe that causes blisters
A stone that leaves blood on your feet.
When I was a small boy my grandparents had a print of this hanging in their hallway in a golden frame. I used to stare up at it in the gloom, mesmerised by the boy quenching his thirst, his impatient dog and the dark foreboding woodland.
I was there, inside it.
When I was a small boy my grandparents had a print of this hanging in their hallway in a golden frame. I used to stare up at it in the gloom, mesmerised by the boy quenching his thirst, his impatient dog and the dark foreboding woodland.
I was there, inside it.
by Jim Buck
by Jim Buck
And filled the moon
We made night
Last all afternoon
We danced with bridges
Upon the Thames
We gathered up London
And sent it to friends
We chased trees
Through the houses
We emptied Parliament
Into our trousers
We jumped the towers
And set a trend
We chased trees
Until the end.
And filled the moon
We made night
Last all afternoon
We danced with bridges
Upon the Thames
We gathered up London
And sent it to friends
We chased trees
Through the houses
We emptied Parliament
Into our trousers
We jumped the towers
And set a trend
We chased trees
Until the end.
H.G. Wells 'The Time Machine'
H.G. Wells 'The Time Machine'
Jim Buck
Jim Buck