December 2019 - Have a look at the website of fellow author, Erica Laine. Her trilogy of books about the medieval queen, Isabella, shines a fascinating light on this remarkable woman.



Visit Stig Tomas' website and see more of his work:


  • PAINTINGS & PHOTOS (in different formats)


December 2019

IDEAL STOCKING FILLER - Stig's compilation of Fowpars cartoons.



Link:  Spike is a poet and performer based in Corby, UK.




 December 2019 - a moving poem with thoughts of the world today.

 As I walk
I hear my footsteps echo
On the cold wet street
I exhale and watch
My breath vanish
Into the ether
I tap my key
Against metal railings.

Ra ti ta tat
Ra ti ta tat
Ra ti ta tat.

I ponder
As madness ensues
Around me
Am I really part
Of this
Rat race
Heading for death
At frantic pace.

Being led by evils
Cunning glare
The pied piper plays
They dance to his tune
Herded . . .
Dumb as sheep,
to his lair.

Where . . .
They are,

Bar coded

Now a commodity
Bought and sold
Bought and sold
As their masters
Crack the whip
Dressed in finery
Draped in gold.

Am I done fighting
Am I done trying
To free fools
From their chains,
To enlighten and
Show them
The source of
Their pains.

I observe as they trudge
To their spiritual demise
Wave the flag
Sing the anthem
Bow the head
Dumb as sheep
Easily led.

Yes! Master
Yes! Master
Yes! Master


Flog us and
Tax us
You know
What’s best
We bow to thee
Beg to thee
How best
We serve . . .

I stand far
From the masses
And quietly

Spike 2019 ©️


June 2018 - a poem by Spike -

Don’t let the bastards grind you down.
Snarling Hounds.
Ahead of me my destiny  A long and narrow path 
There are snakes and thorns and demons
And it's strewn with broken glass.
I'm awash with fear, self loathing
With a shaky foot, I tread
There's rustling in the undergrowth 
It's all happening in my head.
My steps become a canter
Slowly gaining speed
Those eyes of scorn
Those fangs of doubt
Snap until I bleed.
Beset each side are snarling hounds
Screaming in my ears
"You're not for this, you're nothing"
Thus compounding all my fears.
My heart and feet are racing
Towards the light
That's just ahead I cross the line . . . I've made it
Having fretted, cried and bled.
I feel the sun, breathe in the air
I smile, at one with life
I ease my frown
My heart slows down
From my inner self made strife.
I gather up my blessings
We lose
 We fight
We win
I look ahead
Another path
I once again. . . Begin.
Spike 2016 ©