
Margaret McGrath has a way with words that transforms them into a lyrical montage of life’s trials and tribulations and the sweetness found in compassion and faith. Inner rhymes dance through her work inviting the reader to cast off any inhibition holding them back from the dreams that they seek. Humour is never far from the page. Last Tango In Denniston, is laugh out loud funny, conjuring memories of Denny Paly and brylcreemed hair. As winter approaches this is a collection to hunker down with whilst sipping a cup of creamy hot chocolate, and I can guarantee you will not look at an ironing board in quite the same way as before.
Book available 24th September
£7.00

‘There is straight-shooting political comment here…but there are also meditative and lyrical moments.’ (Judy Taylor, writer)
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Linda Jackson’s ‘The Siren Awakes’ is a haunting, heartbreaking and often hilarious dissection of the author’s own childhood and early adulthood; a real world of monster masks, dark closes, dazzling sunlight, love, fear, and, particularly, music. Gentle innocence and sudden cruel violence exist side by side. (Graham Fulton, Poet)
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Jim Ferguson has ten books of poetry already under his belt and this latest collection is a most welcome addition to his vast repertoire. A particular favourite is Domestic Day, a slow meandering through house-hold chores that Ferguson turns into pleasures, whilst the making of soup becomes a meditation in nourishment, soup wae wine, a Vikings shield against the snowfall.
Songs for Lara is more than just a love story, it’s a story of love found between the lines, or in the secret places where we sometimes fear to venture.
(Donna Campbell, poet)
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'What a welcome second collection from Lesley Benzie. Fessen is a total delight. She melds her native N-east Scots with English in writing which is a keen observation of both the outside world and a close scrutiny of human behaviour and relationship. Her language is muscular, strong, yet tender.
She is interested in everything we know of life...walking on the high cliffs of Catterline remembering Joan Eardley, guillemots...perched on tiny ledges facin intae the scarp/like they hiv come tae worship/at the wailin waa...burnt umber plumage/like oiled velvet...and that final homage... a wee prayer for the coastline/that pressed itsel intae Joan's hairt.'
(Sheila Templeton, Poet)
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