18. The Literary Years

by | Memoirs

Ever since my teens I have attached a great deal of importance to writing.  Leaving aside technical work, I have, however, rarely sought to get anything into print, pleading that my interest has been in writing for its own sake, not in suffering the humiliations of...

19. Landfill and Other Diversion

by | Memoirs

The adventures to be detailed in the pages which follow may read almost like an attempted history of the companies concerned.  That is not my idea, rather, I am putting forward a resumé of my personal contacts with them.  There may well be errors; there are certainly...

20. This and That

by | Memoirs

“Well?” I hear you say, and it is an interesting question.  What is it all about? I intend to approach this broad question with a broad brush, starting from the position that reasoned theories, however tentative, are the only credible basis of knowledge. From this...

The Poem

by | Reflections

Jerothony Naylor was the happiest of men. He was in no way bothered about being told he was far from handsome, nor indeed that he gobbled unbecomingly when applying himself at table. No, Jerothony is not a spelling error. An unspecified dispute between mother and...

An Coleg Aberystwyth

by | Poems for a Summer Day

Some boast their classic streamWhere nymphs and dryads dreamTheir buildings touched by time ‘till old and grey.Our college towers in prideBy the Western waters’ sideWhere wild winds vainly beat along the bay.“What may your motto be,O college by the sea?”“Nrd byd byd...
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