Watch this space for news of our next exhibition


The last Moontree Exhibition

was at

The Hayloft Gallery,

Wick Lane, Christchurch, Dorset

from July 21st until August 3rd. 2017



David will be part of the Lines and Squares poetry group, performing at The New Forest Folk Festival from July 5th. till July 9th.

Meditation Groups:

1st. Monday each month. 7 pm

3rd. Wednesday each month 7 pm

Reiki Share:

2nd. Wednesday each month 7 pm

(contact  This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it  for further information)

From April 1st until the end of August 2016


had an outlet

in The Quayside Emporium

on Poole Quay

Paintings, Prints, Photographs

3D Pieces, Needlefelting


Go to Deborah's 3D Page for images of her recent needlefelted creations.

David's new book

"This Deep Moment"

a collection of poems and images

A4 format; 50+ pages; full-colour & monochrome images; £15 + p&p

is now available

Our last Exhibition:

"Telling Stories (again)" was at

The Glastonbury Galleries

High St. Glastonbury

from August 15th till August 31st


We were at

The Hayloft Gallery

Wick Lane, Christchurch, Dorset

from July 24th to Aug 6th.


The Boston Tea Party,

High Street,


from Saturday 31st. January until Friday 27th. February

This was a slightly smaller version of "Telling Stories (again)" 


We were at The Gallery Upstairs, Upton Park, Poole

from January 15th until January 26th. 2015

Creation Myth

(Posted on National Poetry day 2014. Parts 2 & 3 added Oct. 22nd.)


In the beginning was the word.


The word was graceful and the word was strong.

The word floated in the formless void

and the darkness did not understand it.


The word spoke itself. It spoke to itself.

The darkness was not listening.


Cradled in chaos, it sang itself to sleep,

awoke and hugged itself for joy.


One thing led to another. The word

vibrated, swelled in ecstasy, begat

another word. The darkness disapproved.


Delirious with harmony, the words

whirled and spoke and sang, though only they

could hear themselves, the darkness was stone deaf.


Careening madly through the empty dark,

the words collided, danced and sparked, gave birth

to strings and clouds and spirals of new words

that coalesced, hanging in constellations,

all sparkly in the newly-spoken light.


The darkness was unimpressed. But the word

was pleased and saw that it was good.

And the word rested from its labours.


And the evening and the morning were the first day.


In the beginning, the Word imagined

a firmament. It spoke, and it was so.

The darkness retreated a little.

Later, when the song lines had spun their webs,

spidering out across the new-made earth,

mapping out the newly-spoken land,

separating sky from mountain,

singing the oceans into their places,

the Word sat back and smiled. The darkness scowled.


And the evening and the morning were the second day.


In the beginning, the Word considered

the quiet joys of a peaceful garden.

The darkness shuddered apprehensively.

So birds, newly fledged, were despatched to fly;

a raven and a dove, singing out loud

across the dry, grey, silent wilderness.

Under their song, the earth brought forth grasses,

trees yielded fruit whose seed was in itself,

and the beasts, after their kind, multiplied.

The Word saw that it was good. The darkness

withdrew behind the new moon, mortified.

“I know a place.” Said the brand-new snake,

grinning, as he practised making a noose.

“East of here a bit, four rivers, nice trees.”

So the Word sat in the humming of the garden,

quietly naming things into existence,

the raven, snake and dove for company.

“What shall we call those two-legged creatures?”

Wondered the Word. The snake smirked wordlessly.

The darkness looked down and began to plot.

And the evening and the morning were the third day.


Our wall at

The Attic Gallery

August - October 2014

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