Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred
Whimsical observations from deep within an erratic mind
If asked, I would back myself to be able to pen a vignette on a variety of topics. Ordinarily, all yours truly needs is a sight, sound, redolence, or some other stirring of senses to spark creative juices into life. With this in mind, it won’t surprise you to learn, currently journaling accompanied by picturesque... Continue Reading →
During a reflective moment yesterday, lyrics to Daryl Hall and John Hall's 1970s song Sara's Smile meandered evocatively around my neurological corridors. These locutions floated around my mind, gently blown along by a metaphorical zephyr. Calming and soothing my soul, evoking thoughts of my beau Sarah. Sure, unlike Daryl Hall's girlfriend Sara, my Ossett squeeze... Continue Reading →
Ashes from last night's chiminea fire stare back at me as I commence today's descriptif quotidien. Hopefully that snippet of info paints the landscape I'm scribing this prose from a rattan pew at the top of my back garden. Although saying that, as I doubt you know the location my aforementioned fire pit, or indeed... Continue Reading →
A few years ago yours truly embarked on an exercise of broadening my literary horizons by dabbling with scribing poetry. These approximately eighty compositions penned with intended pomposity, mainly due to their delivered in an olde worlde style. Sonnets whose links can be found within my website writesaidfred.org under the home page menu title of... Continue Reading →
It's a long time since I've wandered along the unpredictable and opinion dividing literary corridors of poetry writing. Today, though, inspired by an absolutely beautiful sonnet written by my brother Ian for our mother's funeral service, I thought I'd once again tentatively revisit the marmite genre I frequently penned around 4-5 years ago. To clarify,... Continue Reading →
“Do you not see how necessary a world of pains and troubles is to school an intelligence and make it a soul?” - John Keats. Sentiments from the 19th century English poet from which I oft feed when seeking to reconcile tougher life episodes which tap me on the shoulder and tarry unwantedly for a... Continue Reading →
In lockdown, to continue revisiting some of the 60-70 poems written in summer 2017 (don't worry I'm not gonna post them all!), I present prose penned to a higher being, pleading my moribund father be granted more familial time. Who that being was/is I don't know. But regardless if it was one of the Holy... Continue Reading →
I've absolutely no issue with religion per se. The comfort it brings to those with faith in a host of dreadful situations is heartwarming and noble. In addition, I've nothing but admiration for those who live by the ecclesiastical edicts they serve as a life choice to follow. I am, though, baffled by individuals who... Continue Reading →
You may argue you've suffered enough during the COVID lockdown without yours truly starting to subject you to a selection of the eighty or so poems I penned in 2017. Although, not exclusively relating to the old man, this prose written during the last few months of my father's life in 2017. A dreadful landscape... Continue Reading →