I find myself
in your sleeping
in your shallows
your tilt your pucker
in the creases
and the talcum
of your skin
in your depths
your flail your clasp
in your loaming
and the ripening
of your seedling limbs
Spent all weekend taking part in a #52hrFilm challenge and made this visual poem based on a quickly penned piece of flash fiction.
Such fun and great weather!
Joyful to have my words inside this Zine. Beating those January Blues one poem at a time.
Under the cool bronze of winter sun
I am silence
Face to face with a half-masked deer
and her young
She too is sniffing out the dawn, diamond light
and sharp green pine
Started by the gunshot of a fallen branch
they run, they’ve gone
And I crunch back to our lodge, leave wishes
in the window frost
Bask in the glint of baubles, my sons and knowing
the best is yet to come
❤️Love and peace for the holidays and new year ❤️
Over the past three months I’ve been seeing these numbers absolutely everywhere. This has happened throughout my adult life at significant times of transition and personal growth. Then overnight I had great news that I am going to be included in an upcoming poetry anthology. More on that when the project is announced on social media!
That got me thinking about co-creation, empowerment and being in the driving seats of our own lives to make them the richest and most satisfying that they can be without fear or rejection holding us back. Living bold! With this in mind, something else I’ve been working on this week is a new project that came about as a synchronicitous conversation with a gorgeous illustrator friend whose big heart I first got to know when I met her in our children’s playground many years ago. I expressed my desire to publish a children’s book and she responded that she had always wanted to illustrate one. She has read and loved my words and I know I’m going to swoon over her pictures. Hopefully the start of a grand adventure. How easy life can be if we just swim down the river and go with our intuition and flow ❤️
The square was crowded with the
coffee shop gait of foreigners
leaning away from their ordinary.
Me too. Awkward on the shoulder
of a world class coxswain turned
irritable technician who
wanted to return to the luxury coach
with or without me. We were.
Young, tasting the flavours of this city
between training sessions, basking in
UV strip lighting before the shadow of
my escalating paranoia snuffed it out.
Breathe. He said, grinding his teeth
as he hoisted me into a seat
then moved further down the aisle.
The month after, I befriended the dawn
we flirted for almost six months
sharing brown bottles of all kinds.
Twenty years on
I still hear birdsong
between my ears