Dreams
"I’ve spent as much of my life in a world of dreams as in the world of reality,'' writes John Waddington-Feather.
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"I’ve spent as much of my life in a world of dreams as in the world of reality,'' writes John Waddington-Feather.
John Waddington-Feather, a White Rose man to the core, dedicates this poem to his Red Rose friends.
"One of the many delights of my young fatherhood was telling bed-time stories each night to my three young daughters, Sarah, Katherine and Anna,'' writes John Waddington-Feather.
...The more he sniffed, the more his mouth watered and his tummy rumbled louder and louder. Someone in the copse over the hedge was cooking his evening meal, for Quill could smell the homely wood smoke mingling with the cooking of food. A kettle’s whistle added its harmony to the music of camp-cooking; a symphony of sizzles, crackles and soft seductive hisses...
Prolific author John Waddington-Feather brings us an extract from one of his popular children's novels.
A good selection of John's books are now available from Amazon. Click here for details http://www.amazon.co.uk/s/ref=nb_sb_noss_1?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=john+waddington-feather
... I climbed tall trees
as green as my youth, and on seas
of leaves I sailed a while whole worlds away
to live delight in dreams...
John Waddington-Feather longs for a return to the salad days of childhood.
...A doorway opening wider
Day by day in welcome...
John Waddington-Feather brings us the ultimate in optimistic poems.
"One great change in my lifetime has been the loss of religion in many people’s lives. It seems that years of affluence have led to an utterly materialistic view of life. On the other hand, youngsters are more involved in voluntary charity work overseas than my own generation were...''
John Waddington-Feather looks back over eight decades.
"...religion played a very important part in my life right from the start and as I grew up, it gave me a moral code to live by,'' declares John Waddington-Feather.
John Waddington-Feather tells of a duke who damaged his credentials.
John Waddington-Feather tells of a duke who damaged his credentials.
John Waddington-Feather brings us a poem with a delicious chuckle in its tail/
John Waddington-Feather considers the religious thoughts expressed by the Bronte sisters in their poetry.
Continue reading "Religiosity In The Poetry Of The Brontë Sisters" »
John Waddington-Feather writes a wry poem spotlighting our digital age.
...On another occasion in Germany, I was snoozing on a seat in the sunshine near Heidelberg, when a magpie flew down from the tree I was under and started pecking my bare toe through my sandal. The girls thought it hilarious.
"It was my experience as their teacher that children came to terms better with the death of a parent than with a divorce,'' writes John Waddington-Feather.
"I’m not a very practical person and the only tool I handle well is my pen, but I always enjoyed the woodwork lessons at school,'' writes John Waddington-Feather.
John Waddington-Feather brings us a poem in West Yorkshire dialect.
John Waddington-Feather tells of a dreamy, work-shy lad who caught the eye of two wealthy cousins.
The delights of summer bring John Waddington-Feather near to heaven.
John Waddington-Feather recalls the joys of family life.
John Waddington-Feather introduces us to two remarkable performing pets.
"It was my experience as their teacher that children came to terms better with the death of a parent than with a divorce,'' writes John Waddington-Feather.
John Waddington-Feather brings us a seasonal hymn.
John Waddington-Feather brings a new hymn of praise.
John Waddington-Feather brings us an extract from his book This time an extract from Quill’s Adventures in the Great Beyond at the point where he and Horatio, the tramp cat, cross the border of The Great Beyond and see the devastation which Mungo Brown and his army of Wasteland rats are causing by ill-planned urbanisation of the beautiful countryside. The scene was inspired by an oil-paining in Cliffe Castle Museum and Art Gallery of my hometown Keighley in about 1820. Where I lived was part of the estate of Eastwood House, a gentleman’s residence in Airedale. Parkland and farmland dominate the scene, but here and there the odd mill chimney is already appearing as the very first signs of the Industrial Revolution. By 1870 the hamlet of Keighley had become a dirty, smoke-ridden mill and engineering town of over 40,000 people. Slums appeared overnight and the rivers and streams around the town polluted – just as happened in the Great Beyond extract.
The Great Beyond novel is now on Kindle as will be the rest of the Quill Hedgehog series over the next few months.
John Waddington-Feather's poem concerns a jolly, crafty, sleazt politician.
John Waddington-Feather's poem concerns a jolly, crafty, sleazt politician.
John Waddington-Feather presents a new hymn for this Easter season.
...He always wore his flat cap on the side of his head both when he was working and inside at home in the little house next door. But when he dressed up and went out he wore a bowler and a shirt collar and tie. In the brewery office, just off the main street, he played host to a variety of folk who dropped in daily to see him – and sample a glass of King’s Ale which was renowned for its health-giving properties...
John Waddington-Feather pays glowing tribute to his brewery-owning godfather.
John Waddington-Feather tells of Dolly Smith, a woman who made the very best of her abundant assets.
John Waddington-Feather, whose stories, articles and poems have been appearing in Open Writing for a number of years, has now ventured into the wonderful world of Kindle.
John Waddington-Feather's poetic words paint a vivid portrait of a gritty northern town in yester-year.
John Waddington-Feather's tale-in-a-poem concerns a sad misunderstanding.
John Waddington-Feather considers the biggest questions life has to offer.
John Waddington-Feather's poem really does concern a timely tail.
John Waddington-Feather brings us the words of an Easter hymn. We hope someone is inspired to write music to go with these words.
"We are mere specks of next-to-nothingness compared with the billions of planets and stars in the universe. Yet each one of us is a universe in ourselves,'' writes John Waddington-Feather.
John Waddington-Feather's poem tells a cat and mouse story - in Yorkshire dialect.
John Waddington-Feather's poem leaps for joy at the prospect of returning Spring.
John Waddington-Feather, writing in his native Yorkshire dialect, brings a poem with a chuckle in its tail.
John Waddington-Feather's poem is a harbinger of Spring.
Here is a sample chapter from John Waddington-Feather's detective novel The Marcham Mystery,
Many of John's books are now avaiale from Amazon. Please click on http://www.amazon.co.uk/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=john+waddington-feather
John Waddington-Feather's poem reflects the thoughts of an abhored man.
"In September 1984 I walked unwittingly into a Graham Greene novel. I’d volunteered to go to Sudan as an emergency teacher, not realising in my ignorance before I went that the country was in the grip of a dictator General Nimieri and a group of fundamentalist fanatics operating shariah law. So I arrived in Sudan naively thinking I was merely helping out in a developing country which was desperately short of teachers. I was soon to learn otherwise,'' writes John Waddington-Feather.
John Waddington-Feather's poem highlights a reason for great hope in a cold season.
John Waddington-Feather tells a rewarding tale involving his famous fictional character the Revd Detective Inspector Blake Hartley.
Emma Cookson rounds off in fine style her gripping novel set in the 19th Century in a Yorkshire mill valley.
John Waddington-Feather has written an Advent hymn filled with joy but which also brings a warning.
"In the Keighley of my youth, there were characters wandering about the town who were clearly retarded and today would be residents of care homes. Then, they lived goodness knows where but earned their livings selling cheap wares. I don’t recall any of them begging as junkies or alcoholics do now,'' writes John Waddington-Feather in his evocative article.
John Waddington-Feather's new hymn can be sung to the tune of Sibelius’s penultimate air in ‘Finlandia’.
John Waddington-Feather, writing in his native Yorkshire language, puts in a very special plea to those who muck about with time.
John Waddington-Feather presents a grand Yorkshire poem.
"Perhaps that is what religious faith is all about – stepping outside time for a moment to think about the mystery of life,'' writes John Waddington-Feather.
John Waddington-Feather tells the story of a brave young woman who lost her life trying to save others.
Continue reading "Elsie Kilton And The Westwood Mills Fire" »
"Fill us with the grace to give,'' writes John Waddington-Feather.
...Then he heard it! A long mournful howl which chilled him to the core. He stopped and listened intently. Then it came again, this time closer, and Fisty felt his heart beat faster. “A werewolf!” he whispered to himself, and quickened his pace...
John Waddington-Feather tells a tale set on those bleak Yorkshire moors.
...In the surgical ward there were six fellow patients. When I entered it, the men there seemed just ordinary guys; but as we got to know each other better a rich tapestry of life opened before me...
John Waddington-Feather enjoys companionshop during a stay in hospital.
John Waddington-Feather's poem reflects the lush glow of summer.
"When I meet him socially, you couldn’t wish to meet a nicer fellow, but meeting him professionally is quite another matter, for I’ve been terrified of dentists since childhood,'' writes John Waddington-Feather.
"Old age is the wintertime of life, and growing old accords in many ways with the last season of the year,'' writes John Waddington-Feather.
"Each time I enter hospital, (and I go three times a week to be dyalised) I seem to gain more insight into human nature; as if I’m the observer of a pageant being played out where my fellow patients and the staff are the players,'' writes John Waddington-Feather.
Stevens-Smith grinned from ear to ear. “A ‘must’ in my job,” he replied, then tried to impress Simon with his computerage and made him a bet. “Let’s have a little wager, Mr Braithwaite,” he continued. “I’ll bet you £5 I can tell you exactly how much stock you have on your farm without leaving my car.”
But can a politician iutwit a canny Dales farmer?
John Waddington-Feather tells another choice tale.
...At the sanatorium my duties supplemented the work of qualified nurses. I polished the floors each day, emptied bed-pans and sputum mugs (enamel mugs with lids on into which patients expectorated and made me feel like throwing up when I had to clean them out), made up beds each morning – and laid out corpses...
John Waddington-Feather tells how his education was enriched after leaving university.
Fisty Falshaw became quite unpopular in the town after he had had too much to drink.
John Waddington-Feather tells another of his choice tales.
John Waddington-Feather's poem should make every last one of us grateful for the gift of life.
John Waddington-Feather's poem brings the ultimate message of hope.
John Waddington-Feather brings a most encouraging tale for those who think they are past it.
John Waddington-Feather highlights a favourite of the English hedgerows.
John Waddington-Feather's poem tells of a gent who got his legasl comeuppance.
John Waddington-Feather's beautiful poem reminds us that we humans are a part of nature.
John Waddington-Feather, in his native Yorkshire dialect, brings a blessing to the happy couple.
Continue reading "A Wedding Blessing In Yorkshire Dialect" »
John Waddington-Feather's poem encapsulates the very essence of hope.
...Old Roger Kent, the church warden whose farm adjoined the church, had told me when I’d arrived in the parish about the ghostly couple who appeared mysteriously each Christmas Eve...
John Waddington-Feather tells a ghostly tale.
John Waddington-Feather paints a word portrait of England in Summer.
...There was one amusing incident while we were discussing dialect, when Priestley and I began quoting bits of Yorkshire dialect. Jacquetta looked on blankly, not understanding a word. “I’ve never heard you speak like that before, Jack,” she said. To which he replied, “I don’t get chance to speak Yorkshire dialect these days and I’m making the most of it.”...
John Waddington-Feather recalls the day he dropped in on fellow Yorkshireman, novelist and playwright J B Priestley.
God-made this summer day,
The whole of heaven at play...
John Waddington-Feather gives thanks for a perfect English summer's day.
"Alderman Joe Oxenhead and his younger brother Paul were as different as cheese and chalk,'' begins John Waddington-Feather in this tale of a miraculous conversion.
Sap and words rise in Spring, as John Waddington-Feather's poem reveals.
...Before he knew it he’d been called for an interview in London, got the job despite his age and was sent on a course to learn basic Arabic and familiarise himself with the way of life he was about to enter – a very different way of life he was to discover; a way of life in which Jack Pedwar found his real self...
John Waddington-Feather tells the story of a man who went to teach in Africa in troubled times.
John Waddington-Feather's poem highlights one of his favourite walks.
John Waddington-Feather brings a wedding blessing in his native tongue.
Continue reading "A Wedding Blessing In Yorkshire Dialect" »
John Waddington-Feather reintroduces us to Abe Illingworth, one if the major characters in his Illingworth House trilogy of novels which follows the lives of a Yorkshire mill-owning family.
“Best of all, when once we’ve got Lent safely behind us, no matter what our age, we can look forward to Easter and the Resurrection of new life in the human spirit as well as in the world of nature,’’ writes John Waddington-Feather.
John Waddington-Feather brings us a poem concerning an event which signals the arrival of Spring.
The Romans were in for a big surprise when they came up against the Yorkshire Tykes, as John Waddington-Feather reveals.
John Waddington-Feather muses ipon Haworth Moors, native heath of the Bronte sisters.
John Waddington-Feather’s poem celbrates the lifting of Winter’s gloom.
“The sea runs in every Briton’s blood,’’ writes John Waddington-Feather.
Edie Summerscales had the answer when presented with a £300 bill for extras at the end of her Mediterranean holiday.
John Waddington-Feather tells a spicey tale.
John Waddington-Feather anticipates the coming of Spring.
“J. B. Priestley once remarked that if there were no God, man would have to invent one; and there’s some truth in that,’’ writes John Waddington-Feather.
John Waddington-Feather brings us a poem, a hymn of joy, based on Psalm 19.
John Waddington-Feather tells how a prayer book containing the old Aglican liturgy helped to heal a Russian friend.
“So now I’ve arrived at old age, how do I find it?’’ asks John Waddington-Feather, going on to provide positive and encouraging answers to his question.
...Down Garlic Lane there lived a right old soak
Called Teddy Tank, a happy, carefree bloke...
And Teddy Tank, a lad whi liked his pints, caught the bus in a big way, as John Waddington-Feather reveals.
“Grant that we, with overmuch, may give to those with less than little,’’ writes John Waddington-Feather.
John Waddington-Feather presents a poem/hymn which was set to music by David Grundy.
“The beast within is ennobled by the beauty of love,’’ writes John Waddington-Feather.
John Waddington-Feather brings a story for this very special day.
John Waddington-Feather brings a poem for this Advent season.
John Waddington-Feather brings a poem appropriate to the season.
“What of Gpd this Christmastide?’’ asks John Waddington-Feather.
John Waddington-Feather tells a tragic tale.
“I had a good start in life as a boy and young man and was fortunate enough to have senior colleagues who enabled me pursue a very happy, and I hope successful, career in teaching,’’ writes John Waddington-Feather in this tribute to those who influenced his life and career.
John Waddington-Feather tells a tale with a most satisfying punchline.
“At times of crisis in our lives, humour often saves us. It beams its wholesome shafts of light through the blackest clouds of depression or danger.,’’ writes John Waddington-Feather.
John Waddington-Feather’s poem tells of the fate of a chap who couldn’t stop grousing.
...these moors have a supernatural atmosphere. Stone Age, Bronze Age and Iron Age man wandered across them and left their mark in strange carvings on rocks and upright stones where they worshipped their gods, and since then countless others have tramped them to refresh their souls and bodies...
John Waddington-Feather tells how the moorlands around his native Yorkshire town have had an inspirational effect on his writing, particularly his wonderful Chance Child trology which has been serialised in Open Writing.
John Waddington-Feather tells the tale of a woman who had two funerals.
John Waddington-Feather brings us a new hymn for this harvest season.
His wife confessed herself well beaten;
For no way could her cooking staunch
The flow of food into that awesome paunch.
Percy Peake was a man with an insatiable appetite, as John Waddington-Feather’s poem reveals.
In another Age of Reason,
When the world will be at peace,
Nations living with each other
In the Age when all wars cease.
John Waddington-Feather brings us a processional peace hymn.
...I also went into the museum often by myself to reinforce what I’d been taught at school and to let my imagination run riot...
John Waddington-Feather tells of museums in his home town which fired his imagination and inspired his writing.
...Recently as I lay on my bed in the renal ward being dialysed at hospital, I noticed that all the older patients like myself were reading books, while the younger ones were reading from i-pads. It dawned on me that I was witnessing a literary revolution, such has happened when the printing press was invented and books were mass-produced for the first time...
John Waddington-Feather enthusiastically enters the electronic age.
Overweight Gerald Bates could be said to be prone to accidents, as John Waddington-Feather reveals in this tale. Gerald finishes off his friend – then hooks more than he bargains for when he goes fishing.
...It’s a mystery to me why some folk have to stroke strange animals immediately they meet them. They’ve only to look into an animal’s eyes and read what they see there to see if it’s safe to pamper it; and had they done so when they approached that cranky cockatoo they’d have recognised at once the evil glint..
John Waddington-Feather tells some avian tales.
...I climbed tall trees as green as my youth...
John Waddington-Feather yearns for the salad days of youth.
...My father just before I married gave me some very sound advice: “You’re bound to have the odd quarrel,” he told me, “because marriages aren’t made in heaven. They have to be worked hard at here on earth all your life – and damned hard work it is, too. But always remember this: if you’re wrong, apologise; but if your wife’s wrong keep your mouth shut else you’ll never hear the end of it!.’’...
John Waddington-Feather tells of home life as it used to be in a northern mill town.
John Waddington-Feather pays tribute to George Bell, “ Chichester’s bishop, but a man for all,’’
“Britain has such a wide variety of dialects, cultures and architecture that I thought I’d make a change from writing stories about my home town, Keighley, and pen an article about the town where I’ve lived and worked since 1969, Shrewsbury, and where I now live very happily in retirement. It contrasts greatly with my home town in the north of England, once part of a Viking empire which has left its mark on the area to this day in speech and in other ways. You could say that Keighley sits in the Anglo-Norse part of England in the North, whereas Shrewsbury is in the Anglo-Saxon part in the Midlands,’’ writes John Waddington-Feather.
John Waddington-Feather’s poem tells of the power of the humblest creatures.
William Ruleman, Professor of English at Tennessee Wesleyan College, brings a personal appreciation of the short stories of John Waddington-Feather.
Continue reading "John Waddington-Feather's Stories: An Appreciation" »
“It’s all a question of balance and humaneness; and where the animal world is concerned a question of compassion, too – and I count ourselves as part of the animal world. We’re supposed to be the most intelligent of creatures, but as I grow older I have my doubts as wars and terrorism ravage the world,’’ declares John Waddington-Feather, going on to introduce us to a most remarkable vicar of Howarth.
John Waddington-Feather's poem expresses a view of a Parliamentary man that is a long way short of flattering.
John Waddington-Feather, a master of the short story, tells a most satisfying tale of the birth of true love.
William Ruleman, Professor of English at Tennessee Wesleyan College, brings a personal appreciation of the stories of John Waddington-Feather. Many of John's stories have appeared, and will continue to appear, in Open Writing.
Continue reading "John Waddinton-Feather: An Appreciation" »
Author John Waddington-Feather tells of the Yorkshire mill town in which he grew up.
John Waddington-Feather’s poem celebrates the season of new life.
John Waddington-Feather’s tale reveals that the wrong question can be life-changing.
John Waddington-Feather presents a timely poem for a right Royal occasion.
John Waddington-Feather’s tale confirms that it doesn’t pay to bet with a canny Yorkshire lad.
...Lord, give us means to raise our eyes
to nobler heights, and see you care,,,
John Waddington-Feather pleads for a clearer vision with which to recognise true beauty.
John Waddington-Feather recalls the excitement and joy of Gala Day in Keighley.
Here's the final scene in John Waddington-Feather's gripping and highly-readable play about the abdication of a British monarch.
To rerad earlier scenes please click on
http://www.openwriting.com/archives/feathers_miscellany/
Here is the penultimate act in John Waddington-Feather's play about the abdication of a British king.
John Waddington-Feather continues his compulsively readable play about a King's love which cost him his throne.
John Waddington-Feather continues his dramatic play about a royal romance which led to a British constitutional crisis.
John Waddington-Feather continues his engrossing play based on a crisis in British constitutional affairs.
John Waddington-Feather contains his epic and very readableplay about a crisis in Britain's constitutional affairs.
Here is the third scene of Act 4 of John Waddington-Feather's must-read play about a crisis in British dynastic affairs.
Here is the next scene in John Waddington-Feather's reads-like-a-novel play about a crisis in Britain's royal succession.
Here is the next scene in John Waddington-Feather's play, performed in London last year, which vividly brings to life one of the biggest dramas in British royal history.
John Waddington-Feather continues his play about the greatest royal drama of modern timers.
Here is Scene 2 of the Third Act of John Waddington-Feather's gripping and highly readable play about a crisis in British affairs of State.
Here is the first scene of Act 3 of John Waddington-Feather's play about a time of crisis for the English monarchy.
Here is the conclusion of Act Two of John Waddington-Feather's highly readable play concerning the 20th Century crisis threatening the British monarchy.
Here's another scene from John Waddington-Feather's play Edward, a dramatic account of an epochal event in English history.
Here's the first scene in Act Two in John Waddington-Feather's play - which is as engrossingly readable as any novel - about a time of crisis for the British monarchy.
Here's the fourth scene of Act One of John Waddington-Feather's play which concerns one of the most significant events in the history of the British Monarchy.
Here is the third scene in the play Edward by John Waddington-Feather, the story of events which threatened the future of the British monarchy.
John Waddington-Feather continues his five-act play which illuminates the greatest crisis faced by the English monarchy in modern timers.
Smith: [Winking] He always did like the lower orders – specially the ladies. I know ‘cos I drives ‘im to his rendez-vous, an’ he keeps me waiting hours in the cold outside sometimes while he makes ‘imself cosy inside.
James: [Looking over his shoulder] For God’s sake keep your voice down, Smith. You open your mouth too much at times. You’ll land us both in trouble one of these day. If ever anyone overhears you and it gets back to the Prince that we discuss his personal affairs, we’ll be out on the street before we know it.
Smith: [Lowering his voice] But it’s true. He’s knocking off this rich American woman now at the same time as he’s got two others on tow, an’ they’re all married. He’s a right ladies’ man, I can tell yer, an’ he likes his loaf sliced and well buttered
Today we begin the serialisation of a play by John Waddington-Feather. Edward is a dramatic reconstruction of an epochal time in British monarchy. We will present the five-act drama scene by scene, week by week.
John Waddington-Feather writes about his favourite walk
John Waddington-Feather tells of a vital question put by a blind Ukrainian girl to a businessman in a hurry.
John Waddington-Feather tells a reight grand tale to suit all folk born in the West Riding of Yorkshire who are proud of their accents.
Continue reading "The High Master And Little Billy Clough" »
“In that sense, that God is in us and gives us an awareness of His presence, we can all be God and at one with Him,’’ writes John Waddington-Feather.
Some jobs just can't be rushed, as John Waddington-Feather's sprightly poem reveals.
Mace bearer Eddie Stansfield has his own particular way of reacting to local government changes.
John Waddington-Feather tells a worthy tale.
To read more of John's stories and articles please click on http://www.openwriting.com/archives/feathers_miscellany/
John Waddington-Feather says that Christianity can only flourish in a true democracy.
John Waddington-Feather suggests that dreams give us a foretaste of a life to come.
...He was crawling past the ruins of an old woollen mill built over a hundred years before and set back in ghyll flushed with water, when she appeared out of the night, a slight figure of a girl flagging him down at the roadside. She appeared so suddenly Tom had to brake to avoid hitting her. She was a thin, wan girl wrapped in a shawl and wearing an old-fashioned ragged skirt and shawl. She was bedraggled and white-faced and, most surprising, shoeless. Her hair was plastered against her forehead and her eyes were red-rimmed, staring at him with an unearthly light...
John Waddington-Feather tells a classic ghost story.
John Waddington-Feather’s hymn brings sustenance to the bereaved.
John Waddington-Feather thanks God daily for the natural beauty surrounding his home in Shropshire.
John Waddington-Feather’s poem expresses something considerably less than admiration for our political masters.
Harry Fotheringill and Teddy Sutcliffe think World War One has ended, but after serving four years in the trenches, but they are ordered into Germany as part of the army of occupation.
However Teddy,who is a lawyer in civvy street, has other ideas,
John Waddington-Feather tells a tale with a most satisfying conclusion.
...Somehow here we are just shadows of the fuller persons we will be in our next life...
John Waddington-Feather brings a happy thought for you to reflect upon,
John Waddington-Feather’s poem pays tribute to his friend David Grundy who died recently. David wrote the music and John the words for a large number of hymns.
Percy Lister is a shrewd chap, particularly when it comes to looking after his own money.
John Waddington-Feather’s tale features a cunning Yorkshireman.
...After all, what’s the point of writing if my work isn’t read or acted; if it isn’t giving pleasure to others? That’s the most satisfying part of writing – not being a celebrity, but giving pleasure...
John Waddington-Feather’s counter-ego ensures that he never gets too big or his boots.
John Waddington-Feather believes we were designed to be happy and joyful.
"If practised aright, religion makes us aware of what is good and reveals a loving God at work in the world and our personal lives,'' says John Waddington-Feather.
Anglican priest John Waddington-Feather demonstrates that “gentlemen of the cloth’’ have a keen sense of humour.
To read more of John’s hugely entertaining stories and articles please click on http://www.openwriting.com/archives/feathers_miscellany/
"It’s surprising how little things can lift you when you’re feeling down,'' says John Waddington-Feather.
John wrote this wonderfully uplifting article earlier this year.
...I climbed tall trees
as green as my youth, and on seas
of leaves I sailed a while whole worlds away
to live delight in dreams, and stay
all day in that land of leaves...
John Waddington-Feather's poem expresses a deep longing for the salad days of childhood.
...“Hey, mister,” he gasped, “I think I’ve just heard God and the devil sharing out souls!”
“Gerraway, lad” growled the old man. “Tha’rt pullin’ me leg.”...
John Waddington-Feather's choice tale reveals exactly what was going on in the cemetry.
...If by chance you caught him off-guard and saw his eyes more closely, you’d have noticed how hard they were, full of unbridled greed and ambition, full of self-pride...
John Waddington-Feather's story tells most satisfyingly of how a rogue politician got his comeuppance.
...In time he was contracted to bring up bullion from a ship, H.M.S Edinburgh, torpedoed during the war off the Russian coast. It was a new venture for him because his contractors were a consortium from Eastern Europe, newly released from the grip of Communism and flexing their capitalist muscles...
John Waddington-Feather’s intriguing story about a diver has a factual base.
John Waddington-Feather's poem celebrates the most fecund of all seasons.
John Waddington-Feather's tale tells of the day the employment inspector got more than he bargained for when he called at a Northern hill farm.
...Younger generations today may be more streetwise and they're certainly more affluent. They're more knowledgeable, too, in handling electronic gadgets, computers and such. But are they more wise? Is the Age of the Celebrity an age of wisdom?...
John Waddington-Feather is unimpressed by today's "celebrities''.
...The night was so bad, I was glad to get back from Haworth where I’d been attending a meeting, and before I turned in I had a nip of whisky to warm myself up in front of a roaring log fire in the great open fireplace in the dining room downstairs. It was a bitter night and I wore my jumper in bed; wearing that and warmed by the whisky I was soon asleep despite the racket outside. The next thing I knew was being shaken by the shoulder and a girl’s voice sobbing: “Don’t let them get me! Don’t let them get me!”...
John Waddington-Feather tells of his encounter with a ghost.
...Lady Withington fully dressed peeped round the corner of the bathroom door and stared in horror at the empty space where the wardrobe had been. “My God!” she gasped. “He’s been taken!” and rushed after the two removal men, but she was too late. By the time she reached the entrance, they’d hoisted it onto the van and were driving off...
John Waddington-Feather tells with great gusto the fate which befell ladies-man 'Masher' Rooney.
...the open space was looked after by an unassuming, soft-spoken, little man wearing an official-looking peaked hat and carrying a large leather money bag on a shoulder strap. He was in attendance daily from about 7 am till 5 pm. for almost ten years, charging drivers a pound each and lorries and trucks five pounds for the day...
John Waddington-Feather tells a tale concerning a very canny businessman.
...Whatever your skill, whatever your interest, there is always a place for you in the theatre where you can contribute your talent to a production...
John Waddington-Feather, extolling the joys of being involved in the theatre, tells of Yorkshire actors and actresses who became household names.
John Waddington-Feather’s poem calls for a really significant turning back of the clocks.
John Waddington-Feather tells a most satisfying tale which involves two unlikely bank robbers.
John Waddington-Feather is thrilled by a performance in a London theatre of one of his plays.
"Somewhere in the events which surround Good Friday is the answer to the mystery of pain,'' writes John Waddington-Feather.
John Waddington-Feather’s poem celebrates the harbingers of Spring.
John Waddington-Feather presents a timely poem.
...They met at Keighworth Fair, when she was twenty one and he twenty. By all accounts they fell in love at first sight; certainly she was beautiful and he good-looking. He was also an auctioneer, a good catch, yet they were in other ways not very well matched...
But the marriage of Ira and Belle was turbulent, though blessed by the friendship of Clarice and John.
John Waddington-Feather tells a personal story.
...Daily they met there, hidden by the friendly trees and on the old trysting-tree Olek carved a heart with Anna’s and his name inside. It was still there years later when Olek returned as an old man. But at nineteen and about to leave for university, he bought two gold rings and had inscribed inside them: “Olek-Anna. In love eternal. June 1939.” At the trysting-tree they swore their lasting love as he slipped a ring on her finger and she on his, before returning home at dusk, hiding their rings so no questions were asked. Each time they met they wore them, betrothed to each other...
John Waddington Feather tells a remember-for-ever ghost story.
Here is the opening speech of John Waddington-Feather’s new play Garlic Lane, recently performed to acclaim in London.
John Waddington-Feather's poem celebrates the beauty of Nature's order.
...Another writer, much older and more famous than myself, made her home on Lyth Hill not far away from mine in Spring Coppice. She was Mary Webb and her work is still read, though perhaps better known in the 1920s and ‘30s. In her novels and poetry she captures the countryside, the dialect and the people of Shropshire exactly...
John Waddington-Feather writes with deep affection about the corner of England in which he has chosen to live.
...Cynicism has turned my generation into grumpy old men and women who see all the wrongs of life and nothing right!...
But John Waddington-Feather senses a return to romanticism.
John-Waddington Feather tells a story about a remarkable clergyman.
...Priestley and I spent a very pleasant hour or two at his home hosted by his lovely wife, Jacquetta Hawkes, who made me very much at home. Just why, I don’t know, but Priestley and I switched into dialect for a few moments, because we came from the same area of Yorkshire; he from Bradford and myself from Keighley a few miles away. Suddenly Priestley realised his wife was looking blankly at us. She didn’t understand a word of what we were saying. He apologised and she remarked she’d never heard her husband speak like that before...
John Waddington-Feather, a former secretary of The Yorkshire Dialect Society, recalls a pleasant encounter with one of England’s famous writers. J B Priestley.
John Waddington-Feather presents a new carol.
John Waddington-Feather tells of his work as a prison visitor.
...As Ernest entered, his dad waved cheerily and beckoned him over. “Come on, lad, an’ make thisen at home. ‘Ave some mulled wine. It’ll warm thee up.” More bewildered than ever, Ernest went over. His dad had been dead these thirty years, so had all his friends and they were chatting...
John Waddington-Feather tells a ghostly tale.
...Willie had married a tiny, very domineering woman with a face like a walnut and a voice like a foghorn. She’d been a weaver all her life and adjusted her voice, like most weavers, to the clatter of looms; and in the process gone slightly deaf. Her voice was like an under-oiled train braking to a halt, and you could hear her a mile off...
John Waddington-Feather tells a tale which confirms that Willie really did need a partner capable of organising his life.
...I went to an international camp hosted by the mayor and citizens of Brouages not far from La Rochelle in Poitu. Brouages was a village built inside a huge eighteenth century fortress erected by the Roman Catholic Cardinal Richlieau in the eighteenth century to house munitions and his troops fighting against the French Hugenot Protestants holed up at La Rochelle on the coast.
Our job was to cut away the thick brushwood from the walls of the castle and around it, which had accumulated during the war; to make the site attractive to tourists once more. We came from many parts of Europe: Britain, Italy, France, Germany, Holland, Portugal, Yugoslavia and, notwithstanding the Cold War, Russia. Unlike the politicians we all got on well, and I remained in contact with some of them for years afterwards. In honour of what we did, the French government struck a postage stamp showing the cleaned up walls of the fort...
John Waddington-Feather brings another chapter of memories accumulated during a well-lived life.
John Waddington-Feather’s poem expresses the ultimate in comfort and security.
...On one occasion while visiting my uncle’s farm at Embsay above Skipton, I actually captured a German air crew, who’d landed their plane to surrender near the end of the war. I happened to be out walking near a large meadow when the plane came lower and lower, then much to my surprise landed and the pilot in fluent English asked me to take his crew to the nearest police station in the village. Wide-eyed and gob-smacked, I duly obliged. I was half-expecting to be given a medal, but I was told not to breathe a word about the plane and its crew. Within hours it was dismantled and carried off under shrouds...
John Waddington-Feather, an outstanding writer, publisher and ordained Anglican minister, begins his autobiography by recalling his school days in a northern mill town during World War Two.
...Though now grey-haired and wrinkled, he never lost the habit of looking at himself in every mirror and shop window he passed, smiling his horsey, long-toothed smile of self satisfaction and sleeking back his oiled hair. He kept his lanky figure, dressed impeccably and had his suits made by the best Leeds tailors...
But can fancy dresser and Keighworth’s biggest rogue be taken in by a crafty art dealer?
John Waddington-Feather tells a tale with a surprising conclusion.
John Waddington-Feather’s poem expesses undying love.
John Waddington-Feather's poem spotlights a wrecker of the planet.
John Waddington-Feather tells of the ordeal of three Chinese coal miners who were trapped underground for 25 days.
John Waddington-Feather’s harvest hymn reminds us that we too have things to give.
John Waddington-Feather’s Yorkshire dialect poem expounds a stoical approach to life’s setbacks.
...Now that I’m an ageing seventy six year old, I’m discovering more and more change. Everything is farther away than it used to be. Distance has expanded. I used to go for a three-mile walk every day. Now I manage only half a mile with a stick and the gentle slope up to the church has become a hill. I stopped running anywhere years ago nor do I do press-ups any more. They’d find a corpse on the floor if I attempted them...
John Waddington-Feather muses on the inevitability of change.
In this tale by John Waddington-Feather we meet a man who will never forget the day he scattered his great-aunt’s ashes in the sea at Morecambe.
John Waddington-Feather tells of the immigrants from all parts of the world who, down the long centuries, have come to live in the Yorkshire town in which he was born.
John Waddington-Feather enthuses about cricket, the sweetest of sports.
To read more of John’s stories and articles please click on http://www.openwriting.com/archives/feathers_miscellany/
John Waddington-Feather, whose words appear every week in Open Writing, tells of his 30-year hymn writing partnership with David Grundy.
John Waddington-Feather tells a ghostly love story involving an Egyptian princess who haunted a Yorkshire museum.
John Waddington-Feather’s poem goes to the very heart of what it is to be Christian.
...The feuding between the Capulets and Montagues was nothing compared with the brawling between the Flanagans and Kenndeys which spilled out into the street that afternoon. They spoke of it in Keighworth long afterwards...
John Waddington-Feather’s tale tells of a wedding reception which ended in a brawl in which the parish priest vigorously participated.
...I had two options when I went on dialysis: I could regard being dialysed as some sort of life-sentence; or I could regard it as a life-saver. I chose the latter, and consider myself lucky to be still alive...
John Waddington-Feather brings an inspirational message.
John Waddington-Feather tells of wildernesses he has visited in various parts of the world – and also of an encounter with a desert angel.
Ben Bootham came up with the perfect sign when speeding motorists started to mow down his errant prize-winning hens, as John Waddington-Feather’s poem reveals.
...Indeed, the whole world has changed; and nearer eighty now than seventy, I can see more clearly history turning its pages slowly before my eyes than ever I could as a younger man. I can look back and see my part in it and my home town’s patch on history’s landscape...
John Waddington-Feather tells of the changeless centre point of his life.
In this gripping tale of a Cold War spying journey into East Germany John Waddington-Feather recounts how Blake Hartley’s cool bravery merited the Military medal.
To read more of John’s superb stories and articles please click on http://www.openwriting.com/archives/feathers_miscellany/
...He stammered slightly, was of average height, shy, dark-haired, brown-eyed, eyes which seemed casual at first glance, almost dreamy, but a great deal went on behind them as you’re about to hear....
John Waddington-Feather serves up another excellent tale.
To read more of John’s stories and articles please click on http://www.openwriting.com/archives/feathers_miscellany/
...It all started when Ira bet Joe one night in the Cycling Club that he wouldn’t go up in the balloon with Ira on Gala Day to scatter the annual hospital lottery tickets from several hundred feet up to the crowd beneath. Ira knew full well Joe had no head for heights and would be scared to death...
Joe has no track record for bravery, as John Waddington-Feather’s story reveals.
To read more of John’s stories and articles please click on http://www.openwriting.com/archives/feathers_miscellany/
...The fair-ground folk were a mysterious breed, dark skinned, gypsy, rough-and-ready folk who traversed the country from one fair and fete to another throughout the summer, bringing laughter and joy wherever they went, excitement into the dullest lives. When they entered Keighworth, the town let itself go!...
John Waddington-Feather paints a vivid word portrait of a Yorkshire mill town letting its hair down during gala week.
...Yes, Germany is now united and Europe is not at war, thank God – not even a Cold War. And Britain and Germany are part of the European Union. Whatever the drawbacks of that Union – and there are many – it has brought peace....
John Waddington-Feather muses upon German history and Germany’s place in the European Union.
John Waddington-Feather recalls his time in the Army, and also the military career of John Trefusis who was in action in the Boer war.
...At that time boxing was still allowed in the gym and he knew I went in the odd night to spar with prisoners who boxed to keep them in trim. So I arranged to see him there the nights I went in. But the very first time I'd agreed to teach him he was in the cooler. He'd been fighting with another prisoner. We began our boxing lessons in his cell...
John Waddington-Feather tells a tale concerning a prisoner, Bertie 'Deadhead' Deadham, who was fascinated by the noble art of boxing.
...All their married life Alfred was a liability to his wife. He landed her in some embarrassing situations; like the time he got his finger stuck in the washing-machine....
John Waddington-Feather tells a tale concerning a most unfortunate accident.
To read more of John’s stories and articles please click on http://www.openwriting.com/archives/feathers_miscellany/
John Waddington-Feather is moved to spiritual thoughts by the beauty of Springtime.
...Just then the Pedwar brothers and their friends decided to have one of their ‘dares’. It was George’s turn to carry out a ‘dare’ He was dared to drop onto the bare back of the great Shire horse dozing under the tree they were in. They’d seen the cowboy Roy Rogers do just that, dropping onto his horse, Trigger, in a movie the previous week...
In this delicious tale John Waddington-Feather tells of the exploits of the madcap Pedwar brothers.
John Waddington-Feather tells of the rich cultural history of the city of Bradford.
...this skylark's song ravishes the air...
John Waddington-Feather's poem celebrates the most tuneful of all birds.
Master story teller John Waddington-Feather introduces us to Superintendent Arthur Reginald Jeremy Donaldson, a cocky little police officer who gets his just reward when he skives off work to play golf.
...Rugby has always been my sport from the start: playing it as a boy and man, and now in old age watching it live or on television. I can’t remember a time when I was not throwing or kicking a rugby ball...
John Waddington-Feather declares a lifetime allegiance to the great game.
Gerry Gent demanded a public holiday for atheists. And he got it on an appropriate day, according to John Waddington-Feather’s poem.
Spring as an effect on every poet, no matter what their age, as John Waddington-Feather reveals.
...I could go on at length about the staff at Bington Building Society, later the Binghop Bank, who apparently went about their work amicably with well oiled precision, but on closer examination weren’t so amicable – and sometimes not so precise. Behind the scenes as in all big establishments lurked lust for power and greed, resulting in stress, turmoil and hurt...
John Waddington-Feather’s story reveals a seething sea of emotion behind those respectable building society walls.
John Waddington-Feather tells the inspirational story of a young musician from Manila – a story which reminds us that we should be prepared to pause and listen.
John Waddington-Feather's poem reminds us that there is a road of hope, rather than the gloomy road which leads to blank oblivion.
A poem by John Waddington-Feather is to be engraved on stone at a Shropshire beauty spot.
John Waddington-Feather tells a satisfying story in which a hard, uncompromising hill farmer who got the shock of his life.
...Patrick O’Connell and myself, James Augustus Delaney, (aka Jack ‘the Fingers’ Smith) regarded ourselves as top-notch professionals among those who followed our way of making a living. (We never thought of ourselves as ‘criminals’) We were gentlemen of the first order: myself a burglar and he a bigamist; indeed, you might say he was a quadramist, for he married four wives bigamously and cleaned them all out...
Master story-teller John Waddington-Feather introduces us to two lovable rogues.
To read more of John’s stories and articles please click on http://www.openwriting.com/archives/feathers_miscellany/
There’s a message for humans who watch flocks of starlings wheeling and gathering at dusk on a winter’s eve, as John Waddington-Feather’s poem reveals.
...So dense was the snow outside, darkness began to fall early. They were sailing through a freezing maelstrom taken they knew not where by the sea and elements outside. They were in another world, a freezing hell set to claim them any minute...
Captain John Anderson and his crew, which includes his sons, are in deep trouble as they battle their way through an Arctic storm when they receive help from a surprising source.
John Waddington-Feather tells a satisfying tale.
...We cannot avoid change, try as we may. Darwin pointed it out very painstakingly in his “Origins of Species” and “The Descent of Man”. We are involved completely in change and are part of it, for better or for worse. We ourselves change remarkably in our lifetimes, though we are hardly aware of it; leastways when we are young. Old age is another matter...
John Waddington-Feather’s thoughtful article brings the reassuring thought that we have one refuge from change.
P.C. Kemsworth regretted the day he questioned the splendid Thelma Pepper.
John Waddington-Feather tells another tasty story.
To read more of John’s words please click on http://www.openwriting.com/archives/feathers_miscellany/
It takes a couple of funerals to bring this love story by John Waddingtton-Feather to a happy conclusion.
John Waddington-Feather tells a wonderful heart-warming story of lovers separated for decades by the ravages of war.
John Waddington-Feather tells the tasty tale of how the Feds were tricked when they came to raid a small distillery in a Kentucky town during Prohibition days.
...My disbelief was to be proved wrong sooner than I expected, for on Christmas Eve as I left the lych gate at the entrance of the graveyard, finding my way through the dark by torchlight, I noticed a strange glow in the porch, a warm inviting glow. At first I thought someone had been in the church before me to put on the lights, yet the rest of the church was in darkness...
John Waddington-Feather tells a seasonal ghost story.
John Waddington-Feather tells the story of a wife who had sweet revenge on her philistine and bullying husband.
...As a Christian, I believe my spiritual self is a part of a greater whole. In common with the spirits of other people it can be a great force for good in the physical world in which I live...
John Waddington-Feather presents some inspirational thoughts for this important time in the Christian calendar.
What happened when a brain surgeon found himself operating on the brain of the person who had mercilessly bullied him at school?
Master storyteller John Waddington-Feather creates another intriguing situation.
...Perhaps it’s the hedgehog in me; a kind of annual hibernation which comes over me each November. My dear mother believed that the blood used to thicken each autumn and thin again in spring, and for sure with me a kind of drowsiness sets in about November and lasts until the end of February...
John Waddington-Feather is content to snuggle up in his home during the dark, dank days of November.
For more of John’s sterling stories and articles please click on
http://www.openwriting.com/archives/feathers_miscellany/
John Waddington-Feather tells of troubled times in the Sudan.
To read the three preceding episodes of this story please click on http://www.openwriting.com/archives/feathers_miscellany/
...The church had one solemn, solitary bell, which summoned the faithful to church each Sabbath or tolled in the dead for burial during the week. Trinity Church also boasted an excellent choir coached by Horace Benn. And a very capable organist, Sam Bottomley, made the magnificent organ, constructed by Harrison & Harrison, cathedral organ makers of Durham, thunder out its praise to the Almighty whenever he played it. This story is about that organ...
John Waddington-Feather tells a tale of the supernatural.
Surely Teddy Walker couldn’t sell a dead donkey?
John Waddington-Feather tells a tale of Yorkshire business brains.
John Wadington-Feather’s tale about Heinz the talking dog will leave you speechless.
John Waddington-Feather's poem reflects upon All Souls Day, an important day in the Anglican calendar.
A third collection of 50 hymns and anthems by David Grundy and John Waddington-Feather, Seasons and Occasions Book 2, is now available. The other two are Seasons and Occasions. Book 1 and Hymns from the Classics. Like the other collections Seasons and Occasions Book 2 covers the Church’s Calendar and other services within the Church such as Harvest Festival.
There are hymns for soloists and choir, as well as congregational hymns. Hymns have been written for specific organisations like the Mothers Union, Amnesty International; Young Church services, Church Army, Christian Aid and Oxfam. There are in addition hymns suitable for choreography. The previous collections have had very good reviews by The Church Hymn Society.
Copies are available at £6.95 $17 US a copy. (Postage paid) Direct from
Feather Books of Shrewsbury, UK.
Overseas buyers please send cheques in sterling or dollar bills
or use PAYPAL.
Feather Books, PO Box 438, Shrewsbury SY3 0WN, U.K.
http://www.waddysweb.freeuk.com
John Waddington-Feather tells the story of two mothers who tried to turn their children into life-long slaves.
To read more of John's stories and articles please click on
http://www.openwriting.com/archives/feathers_miscellany/
...For what purpose this life unless it be accumulating the wisdom, love and knowledge of God ready for the next?...
John Waddington-Feather reflects on the idea that the seasons follow the pattern of a human life.
John Waddington-Feather tells how a passionate teenage girl was able, in later life, to repay the handsome teacher who preserved her honour.
John Waddington-Feather tells a satisfying story about a man who knew how to be discreet.
To read more of John’s stories please click on http://www.openwriting.com/archives/feathers_miscellany/
...So there he was, an Anglican priest, teaching English to Muslim and Christian girls in an Italian Roman Catholic school. Being an Italian speaker, he also coached the nun who taught science. And it was while cycling to the school that he first met Moses, a deaf-mute who lived close by the Cathedral...
And Moses becomes an invaluable friend and ally as violent riots sweep through the Sudanese capital.
John Waddington-Feather continues his account of teaching in Africa.
...The city was surrounded by desert, which crept through the suburbs into the very centre. Sand and silt were everywhere. When a sandstorm was unleashed, the sun was blotted out and streetlights (such as were still working) were switched on.
Life came to a standstill till the storm had passed. Nomads travelling through the city halted just where they were and sheltered behind their crouched animals. All traffic ceased and wrappings were thrown over engine bonnets...
Middle-aged English teacher Jack is forced to experience the Third World after volunteering to teach in the Sudan.
To read the first part of this story, and other articles and stories by John Waddington-Feather, please click on http://www.openwriting.com/archives/feathers_miscellany/
Continue reading "The Teachers - Part 2 - Flies, Famine And New Friends" »
John Waddington-Feather tells of a man in his fifties who decides to teach in Africa.
John bases his story on his own experiences in the Sudan in 1984-85. This is the first of four episodes. The second episode will run in Open Writing next Sunday.
Continue reading "The Teachers - Part 1 - Many Roads To Allah" »
So what are folk saying in your presence when you are extremely deaf and the winner of seven million pounds on the Lottery?
John Waddington-Feather tells a delicious tale.
For more of John’s stories and articles please click on http://www.openwriting.com/archives/feathers_miscellany/
...Many a man small in stature and in mind, once he gets behind the wheel of a Rolls or Mercedes becomes puffed with pride. By their dresses and cars ye shall know them. But what goes on inside the minds and hearts of these people is often allied to hypocrisy and meanness....
John Waddington-Feather’s story reveals how money can divide a family, but also can serve as a measure of good-heartedness.
John Waddington-Feather tells the delicious tale of an old poacher who knew how to best a bullying gamekeeper.
...There were rumours in Keighworth that he’d been sent down for some misdemeanour, but whatever the truth he left Cambridge early and travelled the world, living off his wits and his parents, till he settled to a dubious life in the south of France playing cards and the roulette tables in various casinos, borrowing money from friends and acquaintances unashamedly in that charming way of his when he was down on his luck – or returning home for a hand-out, when money was not forthcoming abroad...
Could black-sheep Philip have a surprise in store for his relatives? John Waddington-Feather tells a satisfying tale.
Vladislav Pletnov was of medium height, dapper and good looking, and very much a lady’s man. He had the politician’s smile, the smile of a con-man which flashed on and off with about as much feeling behind it as a light bulb. And like all politicians he was adaptable, bending which ever way served him best. So, when Communism collapsed, with the ease that came with practice he switched sides and became a successful Capitalist. He was also a womaniser...
John Waddington-Feather tells of a spurned wife who served up an abundant “plateful’’ of revenge.
John Waddington-Feather tells a tale to gladden the heart of every Yorkshireman.
Continue reading "The High Master And Little Billy Clough" »
...We are all blinded – and tempted by – wealth and the urge to amass it. The media assesses everyone by it and constantly rams it down our throats. They would have it that those who have nothing are nothing, not worth bothering with. How wrong they are!...
John Waddington-Feather offers sound advice in a greedy age.
Can the new bishop butter up mill magnate Willy Clayton and prize some cash out of him?
John Waddington-Feather tells a story concerning a shrewd Yorkshire chap.
John Waddington-Feather tells of a small-time farmer who was delivering more than milk on his daily rounds.
Honour is sadly lacking in this age of crippling cynicism, says John Waddington-Feather.
...Early on my father must have realised I had a flair for language and history which developed at school and university.
Both subjects were nurtured by my visits to the town’s museum, which stood on our doorstep in Victoria Park. It was a wonderland stimulating the imagination, for by simply gazing at its exhibits you could travel back to the beginning of time or journey across the globe and back without leaving dear, old Keighley, the Keighworth of my novels and short stories...
John Waddington-Feather pays tribute to the museum which had a huge influence on the course of his life.
John Waddington-Feather points the way to peace of mind and a meaning to life.
John Waddington-Feather tells of an inspirational ghost with a golden heart.
…“What you do,” they said, “is simple. You ask old Evason for the toffees on the top shelf; then when he’s busy with his back turned up there, grab a handful of jelly babies from the box on the counter and shove ‘em in your pocket..” It seemed so easy and they shared with Jack the loot of their own pilfering, just to show how easy it was…
John Waddington-Feather tells of a lad who landed in trouble, acknowledged his guilty and received a smile he would never forget.
John Waddington-Feather tells a reight good Yorkshire tale which says a lot about us folk from the county of broad acres.
...Though he’d abandoned Communism, like many former members of the Party, he never really believed all men and women were equal. He saw where the main chances in life lay and took them. Number One was always first and that’s why he had risen high in the Party ranks. That’s why he quickly landed himself a well-paid job when the Party crumbled...
But Sergey Petrov is about to discover that there is much more to life than money and success in this splendid story by John Waddington-Feather.
For more of John's satisfying tales please click on Feather's Miscellany in the menu on this page.
John Waddington-Feather tackles a subject which, though rarely discussed, is hard to ignore.
John Waddington-Feather suggests that many of us are becoming slaves to our baser selves.
So what caused old Jonas to snore in church? John Waddington-Feather's poem ends with a chuckle.
John Waddington-Feather tells of punch-drunk boxer Freddy McNeigh, who finds himself in possession of more money than he can handle.
John Waddington-Feather, writing in his native Yorkshire language, has some fun with time.
...Thelma and I used to walk up the lane sometimes on the way to our schools and by the time I reached the sixth form I’d fallen in love with her. She was beautiful, witty, eloquent and a flirt, but she had more enterprising boyfriends than myself. However, we remained good friends right through school and beyond; for in later life she returned to Keighworth as you will hear...
John Waddington-Feather's story concerns an incident in the life of Thelma Pepper, a lass who knew how to take a copper down a peg or two.
John Waddington-Feather’s account of how he ventured into publishing is an inspiration to authors who find it difficult to get their work into print.
Please do visit John’s Web site www.waddysweb.freeuk.com
John Waddington-Feather’s poem features the game he played as a young man, and the sort of town in which he grew up.
John Waddington-Feather tells of a man in his fifties who decides to teach in Africa.
John bases his story on his own experiences in the Sudan in 1984-85. This is the first of four episodes.
Continue reading "The Teachers - Part 1 - Many Roads To Allah" »
...Nykola Wessolovskyi, the child's father, had been a Bolshevik, a revolutionary from the start. "What has religion done for the people?" he'd argued with his wife years before, "except blind them to reality and suppress them, kept them under as tools of the bourgeoisie and the aristos."
As a result Danya Wessolowska, his wife, had had to wait until that cold February morning, when, wrapped up in her thick black shawl like her mother, she'd smuggled young Cyril out to the chapel while his father was away in the army the other side of the country...
John Waddington-Feather's story arises from the drama and agony of Russia's 20th Century history.
Beautiful Belle was married to Ira for almost fifty years - and a right dance he led her for most of them...
John Waddington-Feather's story concerns a working class lass whose life reaches a plateau of modest triumph.
...The Cycling Club Committee were a humourless lot. They couldn't see anything funny in a lion being brought into their Club and frightening folk to death; still less, pissing over the billiard tables...
John Waddington-Feather tells of the night when Achilles the lion terrorised the serious drinkers of Keighworth.
To read more of John's well-crafted tales please click on Feather's Miscellany in the menu on this page.
John Waddington-Feather tells a tale which proves that good teaching can bear fruit generations later.
...Jim and Ethel were loyal chapel-goers. They never missed a Sunday at the tiny chapel at Ruddledene down the hill from their farm. The congregation was small compared with the old days when there was less money around and less free time. The old-timers would have been shocked to see people playing sport, washing their cars or driving off for the day to the seaside on the Sabbath. The old order had gone and a new one had taken its place - but not quite...
But Jim and Ethel are about to be unexpectedly caught up in the sexual revolution. John Waddington-Feather tells a satisfying tale.
...But who's the character the great dictator
Pilate's hung between the two poor sods
who shared my cell with me?...
John Waddington-Feather's poem presents the musings of the freed prisoner, Barabbas.
John Waddington-Feather hails the humble flower which outblazes the sun.
Do visit John's Web site http://www.waddysweb.freeuk.com/
John Waddington-Feather is a writer, teacher and Anglican priest who taught in the University of Khartoum during one of the more momentous periods of Sudan's history. While there, he saw the terrible effects of drought and famine, witnessed public hangings under a perverse interpretation of Islamic Shari'a Law, and finally left the country under the turmoil of civil war and anti-government riots.
But it was among the Sudanese people he discovered new dimensions of love and endurance, and a real deepening of his own faith serving as a priest at the Episcopal Cathedral, and among Muslims and Christians alike in his work as a teacher. He was befriended at the university by the Republican Brothers and Sisters, a group of Muslims seeking to establish closer links with Christians to share in a deeper understanding of God.
Their leader, Mahmoud Taha, was hanged by General Nimeiry for heresy at Kober Prison, opposite the author's own apartment, in January 1985. In the preceeding months, 15,000 Falasha Jews, refugees from Ethiopia, were airlifted over that same apartment from Khartoum Airport a couple of miles away across the Nile. All these events are recorded in his trilogy of poems about Khartoum.
The author was born in Yorkshire in 1933 and graduated at Leeds University. He is married with three grown-up daughters and has written children's books, regional histories, drama and other collections of verse, including a series of humourous poems on his Yukon travels. Much of his ministry outside his work has been in prisons.