If you're a poet or someone who enjoys poetry, and in the Wirral area, then here's a forthcoming event for you. Technically, National Poetry Day will be held on the 3rd October, but this event will be held a day earlier to fit around other activity events within the venue. This open mic event will run from 3pm till 4.15pm, in the lovely surroundings of the Chatterbox Tea Room within Oxton Grange Care Home, 51 - 53 Bidston Road, Oxton, Wirral, CH43 6UJ. The venue is located half way along Bidston Road, offers full disabled access, and has a car park to the front of the building. Several buses service Bidston Road from Claughton or Birkenhead, and there are bus stops very close to the home.

All's Change With the herald of season's end, all's change. It feels good to stop swimming against raging currents. I said to the Dragon, "Ok, I give in - if this tide's reason is to block my path then show me another way." And so it was done. Breezes shiver gold-tinged leaves in a barren apple tree - time now to journey on through different waters. There are big changes coming to our household; selling this house and planning to move on is only one of the two big changes about to unfold.  We're not quite ready to make public the other big change just yet, not until a few details have been finalised which could take a couple of weeks, maybe a little longer. Life's a funny old thing, hmm?  You potter along in a set way, thinking this is how life's going to be for the foreseeable future - then WALLOP!  All's change. Change can be for good or ill, as we all know.  It depends on context.  In this instance, Richard and I ar...

Click on the image to view it larger.     I was surprised to discover that one of my poetry ebooks, Entering the Grove , currently ranks at #66 in the Amazon.com Best Sellers listing for "Inspirational and Religious Poetry". The book blurb reads: "This collection of Adele Cosgrove-Bray’s poetry describes how, at the age of nineteen, she entered an order known variously as the Eternal Companions or the Initiates of Ma'at, which was led by an elderly man called Thomas Joseph Walton, (or "T"). His philosophy was similar to that of GI Gurdjieff's.  Entering the Grove describes her seven years with this group. She hoped to find answers to a series of experiences which had haunted her since early childhood, as depicted in the poems I Wonder , Twilight and Love's Hermitage , but she gradually became disillusioned with Walton’s philosophy. In 1999, Adele joined the Order of Bards, Ovates and Druids (OBOD), and this heralded the start of...

Threads:  a diverse collection of poetry by Adele Cosgrove-Bray, dating from 1983 to 2008. Many of these poems have been previously published in "Moonstone" and "Touchstone" (the journal of the Order of Bards, Ovates and Druids.)                  

What was the beyond-human being who walked into her dreams? How could mere dreams seem more real than reality? This enchanting collection of poetry describes the author's long search for answers. This collection of Adele Cosgrove-Bray’s poetry describes how, at the age of nineteen, she entered an order known variously as the Eternal Companions or the Initiates of Ma'at, which was led by an elderly man called Thomas Joseph Walton, (or "T"). His philosophy was similar to that of GI Gurdjieff's.  Entering the Grove describes her seven years with this group. She hoped to find answers to a series of experiences which had haunted her since early childhood, as depicted in the poems I Wonder , Twilight and Love's Hermitage , but she gradually became disillusioned with Walton’s philosophy. In 1999, Adele joined the Order of Bards, Ovates and Druids (OBOD), and this heralded the start of a highly creative period. Yet she had still found no solution to the l...

  

For cryonicists and garden gnome enthusiasts everywhere...!

for Dad Just the other side of yesterday the heat of a Cornish beach caused you to roll your trousers to your knees and walk beside me through flowing waters. Letting go of my child-sized hand must have been the hardest thing. Watchfulness half-hidden in oak brown eyes, not wanting to withhold fun but, like a trapeze artist’s net, waiting in readiness. Just the other side of yesterday you smiled as I closed the door on a life you wanted forever, but wider worlds call every child. Amidst the guests your face shone, one ambition of yours attained – my hand safely in another’s – and how you smiled to hear I could visit the sea every day. Just the other side of yesterday your bone-thin hand stroked mine. grey-rimmed eyes already sinking into the other side of time. © Adele Cosgrove-Bray, 2007.

Revealed - the mystery behind the poem (mistakenly attributed to me) which appeared on Terry Wogan's radio show:  SylviaTaylor  - actress, playwright, stalwart of medieval battle re-enactments, and soon-to-be film director (shooting starts this spring) - and old school pal. We were reminding each other of the dubious delights of our old school days just recently. Sylvia volunteered the information that it was she who had caught me when I passed into blissful unconsciousness during The Human Biology Film. You know, the one with some brave woman howling, "Oooooww!!! Arrrrrrgh!" rather a lot. How could I resist reminiscing about the day Sylvia fell into a cesspit during a cross-country run? Ah, the joys of youth. Well, our builders have finished plastering the bathroom walls, the new bath is plumbed in and some of the floorboards have been repaired. If any of you would like some dust, we have plenty going spare.

Apparently one of my poems was read aloud on Terry Wogan 's radio show this morning. My sister Evelyn told me this in an email, and I honestly don't know a thing about it. I haven't submitted any work to the BBC. My friend Wendy has just phoned me to say she'd heard it on the car radio around 7.30am. She was on the way to work at the time. A rapid Google search didn't identify any other poet with the same name as myself, however. Then again, it can't yet be presumsed that everyone has internet access. So, I'm still none the wiser. As I write this, the house is in a state of controlled chaos. Screaming drills and stomping workmen’s boots, hammering and sawing herald the arrival of B-Day! That’s Bathroom Day, in case you wondered. Our old and extraordinarily vile bathroom suite is currently sitting on our front lawn awaiting proper disposal. Upstairs, in what truly is the smallest room of the house, various repairs are starting to take place prior to the...