Winter at the beach The cold, pale sand stretched out around the shore line Holding one solitary figure, Walking slowly along its surface, Hair blowing
I gathered the hills in wide handfuls, sculpting them to suit my purpose, arranging the opposing troops on either side of Glen Duvet. The hot
She phoned when I was with my friends and said her computer wasn’t working. I was to go round right away and fix it, tearing
The illicit substance flows through my veins and I feel the kick once again. My heart beats not faster or slower but my perception of
Leave my dreams be. Leave them to me. They are not yours. They are mine. My dreams are not commodities. My hopes are not shares.
So I shall play this game. Board set. Pieces placed precariously. The outcome is uncertain. Dice, cards and knuckle bones left bouncing to the fates.
O thou shall! And thou shalt not! The grey , still darker, harkens forward. Giants mimicry of persistent turmoil. The light, dimming of noises unheard.
A lone magpie perched In the centre of oncoming traffic, Picking through the remnants of her late mate lost. Sifting through the splattered carcass, searching
You were the best in us Embraces never forgotten You were the best in us A Light in the wild Clearing in the trees Eyes
The stretch of earth, sky and mountains makes me feel both free and trapped as the infinity of nature consumes me. I am both immersed
trees towards the sky branches broken by age over leaves fallen no longer reaching new home on earth and to remain
A whole collection of key rings from her travels: Objects to look upon and reminisce about the journeys she had experienced. To places reached by
When the day is gold and all around, Comes a roaring gale upon the skies, The pines shall lift the weary ground, And howl and
To quicken but never birth Leaving us like a pregnant pause. Hera waits, whispering an ever ending lullaby. The bow that breaks shall never fall,
As I watch keenly, these two Kings join the ranks of the Roman Gladiators, Courting one another, evenly matched. Blow after blow they trade. Lunge,
I strive onwards in a dazy haze
Her mane is bedraggled, it is in a sorry state. The last hairdresser in control, had left it too late. It troubles her greatly the
I wasn’t sure if we were still doing this over the summer, but I decided I might as well share something so you know I
(this wasn’t any thing serious, it was mere procrastination, enjoy. :)) The mice are coming, in the walls, scratching. Coming for me. Coming for you.
don’t sit with your mouth agape and stare. let him look down your top passing by – by accident (oh my god, what rubbish, how