Performing at WENLOCK POETRY FESTIVAL – heart’s homeland, my feet in Silurian earth, wisps of morning caught on warm yellow-grey stone and a distant Wrekin – Speedwell, Stitchwort and Periwinkle wreathing our words. The old stones and alleyways of the little town were alive in a different way – poetry stuffed into every crack and crevice.
Our performance marked Shakespeare’s 400th birthday celebrations with poetry music and film. Here is a selection.
An Onnagata Kami Infests my Forest – gong drum
Juniper – glass drum, octave guitar
The view from my hotel…