My dog, Albus, is lying in the passenger’s seat footwell of my van. I am driving from Narberth to Landshipping, and as usual, I take the A40 to Canniston bridge. It is only once we hit the fast stretch of this road that Albus retreats from the comfort of the seat to the footwell. He is a […]
Fox-cub, curious amongst roots, sniffs at air,Pauses, a child of caution, his foreleg raised. Despite being five years old, I had never managed to explore the whole of this countyhouse, set high on its hill. The house was Victorian, built of red brick, and it overlooked awide valley, which, on its furthest edge, lapped up […]
Gold light crowns the hill. Trees must sing in leaves of green, a lullaby beneath blue skies. My eyes, agape, with mouth of crow, I caw the onset of a sunset red that reaches out to touch with pink the plumped up, pillow clouds. The sun, like spittle on a prophet’s lip, hangs pre-destined over […]
Valley of waters sucked and filled by the moon’s strong mouth. Stunted oaks, succoured by serpent roots, are wind carved offerings to a white goddess. La lune is huge, is nine months full. An ocean is pulled up stream. Creation.
My name is Miles Hovey, and this is my digital platform, my air-bed of the imagination. It is my craft to float about on, subject to every whim of weather and tide. I welcome you to this link between minds, yours and mine. I have played with words for over half a century, and have spent thirty five of those years in the shadow of the Preselli Hills of Pembrokeshire in Wales. I came to write poems, but ended up a builder who wrote poetry. The difference between a word and a wet four inch block is around twenty-two kilos’ After some time, arthritis arrived, vengeful and hungry; it ate my hips and shoulders. On this site I will include previously published poems, and a story to be revealed on a chapter by chapter basis. I hope you will enjoy this