When I wrote the song Rouse Ye Women about the Cradley Heath Chainmakers’ strike, I knew it needed a singer of super strength and spirit to sing it. I was so pleased when Elizabeth J. Birch accepted my invitation and delivered a powerful and emotive vocal...
Coat, hat and gloves on, I scoop up his school bag / randoseru (?????) by the leather shoulder straps and heave it onto his back. He pushes the door open to leave for school he turns to me, sighs and says: “Another long day at school for me.” It can be hard to get the...
Two men in their 70s do Tai Chi at the park. Wearing matching sleeveless bomber jackets, warm jumpers and khaki cargo pants – their bicycles discarded by a nearby tree. As if lead by a conductor, they move effortlessly and gracefully in sync. I imagine a...
Writing – whether it’s songs poems or diary entries – is my reset. It’s my cleansing routine, it’s my “Excuse me I just have to go and freshen up”. Writing is my therapy and my friend. Writing allows me to escape but doesn’t punish me for the privilege...
When I arrive at the park Taiga’s cheeks are red and he’s breathless but happy. He has his own agenda today and has been playing football for the last two hours with his schoolmates, proudly announcing he did 21 kickups, using both feet. A few months ago he was...
