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The nineteenth story in my collection of thirty, When I Am Not Writing Poetry, is ‘Ladies of the Port’ – another tale from my time at sea. An encounter in a foreign port and a misunderstanding quickly rectified! A short story means a short introduction!

One Saturday afternoon in Port Melbourne, where they were moored while waiting for a berth, a smart young man was to be seen standing at the foot of the gangway. He was accompanied by two very attractive young ladies. On spotting the deck officer near the top of the gangway he hailed him and asked if they might come aboard for a look round the ship.

‘Ladies of the Port’ can be found in When I Am Not Writing Poetry – available here or on Amazon.

The eighteenth story in my collection of thirty, When I Am Not Writing Poetry, is ‘Cargo’ – another tale of the sea, drawn from my time in the merchant navy. I still have in my possession the cargo plan with its macabre stowage. But a tale of a haunted ship? I don’t believe that I ever sailed on one!

The Third Officer was busy making copies of the cargo plan. It was the Second Officer’s job to decide where everything went, but as a part of his preparation for the time when it would be his task, he had been helping and this final, more mundane job had become his. He was slightly in awe of the cargo officer’s job as there were so many aspects to be considered when you decided where to load so many tons of bagged salt (the bottom of number 5 hold) or 19 unpacked —that is not travelling in boxes—cars (on top of everything else in the lower hold of number 3 hatch). There was the stability of the ship to consider of course so as each logistical decision was made there were frequent recalculations to make because cargo could be loaded in several ports—this trip only two—for discharge at any number of ports…

‘Cargo’ can be found in When I Am Not Writing Poetry – available here or on Amazon.

The seventeenth story in my collection of thirty, When I Am Not Writing Poetry, ‘The Poet’  – almost an autobiography, almost a teaser for The Dark Trilogy: a parallel story of the Svengali-like friend who – it is suggested – was responsible for a literary career. The scholar, the academic, the writer who explained a poem!

Twenty years ago my friend asked me to write a book…

To be more precise, he asked me to write a commentary on one of his poems and, in that small commission, what has perhaps become my most famous work was born. And he died. But I am proud to say that through my work, he lives on. You can learn much of the man and his works in my lengthy treatise—you will learn of his public life and of the story of his lives that was hidden in the poem

‘The Poet’ can be found in When I Am Not Writing Poetry – available here or on Amazon.

The sixteenth story in my collection of thirty, When I Am Not Writing Poetry, ‘Her’ is one man’s awakening – literally – a time when he cannot quite tear himself from the past nor face the future that the day will bring. His dreams of his life so real; until…

It was not unusual for him to lie there awake. The heat of the day remained, trapped in the small room under the eaves; trapped in his body which was damp with perspiration; trapped in his mind. He had long since thrown back the covers and now the cooler night airs that occasionally drifted in through the window chilled his sweat, but only briefly. His mind remained feverish. In turmoil. He had been here for months now and the time had passed pleasantly enough—the summer had been fine and he knew that by now the harvest was in, the hay stacked in the barns and the barley heaped on a shed floor. Now, as the nights began to draw in he suddenly felt unsure. He reached out.

First there had been the chaos of sorting the lambs for market…

‘Her’ can be found in When I Am Not Writing Poetry – available here or on Amazon.

Half way! The fifteenth story in my collection of thirty, When I Am Not Writing Poetry is another story following one of the characters – three children – briefly introduced in The Dark Trilogy: ‘Simon’ – the young man who also featured in #12 ‘The Bookbinder’s Daughter’ – here we find out a little more about him. He is a publisher, there is an overseas trip to Frankfurt and Hamburg, there are new colleagues to get to know, and there is time by himself in a foreign city.

He had been with the company over sixteen years when they made him a part of the team going to the Frankfurt Book Fair and asked him, as the new editor with responsibility for German sales, to spend a week at their Hamburg offices on the way home. Having a responsibility for overseas sales on top of his commissioning work was a nuisance, but it had been a promotion and meant more money so he had accepted it; in any case, German sales had never been a problem for them and it really only meant liaising with the Hamburg office once a month. And now, they were giving him a week in Germany. Things could be worse!

‘Simon’ can be found in When I Am Not Writing Poetry – available here or on Amazon.

The fourteenth story in my collection, When I Am Not Writing Poetry is another very brief story drawn from life: ‘The Tenements Bus Stop’ is a snapshot of innocence. Of knowledge so nearly gained. Once again the brevity of the story means an all too brief taster and once again the reader of When I Am Not Writing Poetry is offered a glimpse into another life.

She told me she loved me. She whispered it. She breathed in my ear…

‘The Tenements Bus Stop’ can be found in When I Am Not Writing Poetry – available here or on Amazon.

The next story, the thirteenth, in my collection, When I Am Not Writing Poetry is ‘The School Friend’ – the second very brief story drawn from life: a snapshot of two boys, perhaps in the school summer holidays. Once again the brevity of the story means an all too brief taster and once again the reader is offered a glimpse into another life.

There were four of them in the fifth form; four who shared an interest in building and flying model planes. But it was Pete that came over most often to his house to play table tennis, with whom he went fishing and swimming, and with whom he sometimes played tennis. The public tennis courts were on the sea front not far from Pete’s house so it was natural to collect Pete from his Mum’s house after the bus dropped him off in the square.

‘The School Friend’ can be found in When I Am Not Writing Poetry – available here or on Amazon.

The next story, the twelfth, in my collection, When I Am Not Writing Poetry is ‘The Book Binder’s Daughter’ – the second story in the collection to revisit three friends who received brief mentions in The Dark Trilogy. This time the focus is on the second of the two boys and the girl, and once again on the connection – supposed connection, perhaps – between them.

Simon could not quite believe it. He spent the first few minutes after recovering from the shock of that sudden and immediate recognition calculating. How many years had it been since they had last met? It shocked and surprised him to discover that the answer was sixty! But in all those years, she had not changed at all, he thought; older, certainly, but still lovely—instantly recognisable. He wondered if she had seen him, recognised him? But perhaps he had not made the same impression on her all those years ago that her petite features with the slightly upturned nose, the blond hair, the lively eyes and ready smile had made on him. And on one or two of his friends, he thought! His eyes sought her out again across the room and there she was near the windows overlooking the bay talking to, and laughing with, someone in a gown. Simon felt a sudden pang of jealousy.

Sixty years? Could it really be that long… sixty years since he had first fallen in love!

‘The Book Binder’s Daughter’ can be found in When I Am Not Writing Poetry – available here or on Amazon.

Moving on through my collection, When I Am Not Writing Poetry and we come to the eleventh story, ‘The Call’. One of several very brief stories drawn from life: a snapshot of an evening. A snapshot of a generation gap… and because the story is so brief – less than a page – it is difficult to describe it without telling the story! There is a dance and a telephone call…

It was two minutes past one in the morning when the telephone rang.

Of course none of them had heard it above the Rolling Stones LP which was playing and the general noise of dance and conversations shouted over the music. As his friend’s mother appeared in the doorway in her dressing gown…

‘The Call’ can be found in When I Am Not Writing Poetry – available here or on Amazon.