Pandemic Painting #5 ‘Bella’ In the village of Saint-Antoine L’Abbaye, situated at the end of a gravel path, stands a white washed cottage, curtains drawn, door locked. Inside, she waits. Eyes filled with such tenderness. Sweet despair heavier than the scent of crushed rose.
Read moreStone By Stone
Grey. I was grey. Grey as the stones washed upon the shore, heavy with the history of us. Little stones washed over my feet like scattered pieces of an unspoken truth. As the sea sang in a whispered hush, I flung one stone. Then another. Stone by stone I cast you off. Except for one. […]
Read moreStand
On the night you were born Your father raised your face to moonlight and the world turned silver. We felt the drumming of a heart and raised you an army to stand by your side. Raise your head, Child. You are tethered to Light.
Read moreMy sister asked, “Do you remember that morning at the beach?” How could I forget? A memory of us. Two children lost in fantasy, tiny feet dancing as the ocean kissed the sand. Accidental twins, our small bodies snuggled in white hoodies. “You took a stick and drew a huge circle,” she said, I remember. “I […]
Read moreYou ask, “Who am I?” You are, The pieces of every woman who came before your time Scraps of chintz, lovingly stitched together Calico cloth from an Auntie’s tattered dress Pearl buttons cut from a Grandmother’s worn sweater Poetic whispers in the night A prayer to the stars Oil and water Loss and Love These […]
Read moreCurrency
The value isn’t in the object. It is in the human story attached to it. The worn chair, the chipped saucer, a silver fork, her oil painting, a skeleton key, a one-eyed bear, a favourite find, a worn photograph. The memory is tactile, visual, and fraught with emotion. Love. This is the currency to value. […]
Read moreSimple, Beautiful Things
I shut myself in a room surrounded by beautiful things Music, books, old photographs, a Swallow’s nest, found glass and silver Everything beautiful ~ Old World Soul
Read moreAll Knowing
It’s been awhile since I’ve sat down to “free” write much of anything worthy of eyes and time. So, here goes a draft of something that has little relation to anything, other than a fledgling writer’s recommitment to practice her craft~ Perched upon a twisted branch, nestled deep within the tree top’s canopy, a raven hid. […]
Read moreThrough Her Eyes 2
Through her eyes…
Read moreThe Circle
The circle opened to let me in. A hand reached for mine. Warmth from a touch pulsed through starved veins; a fingertip graced my forearm. A heartbeat slowed. We stood tall together. Ancestors, cousins, sisters, mothers and aunts all stepped forth, heads held high. You turned and faced us. Strong women. We’ve known struggle. The […]
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