Of a time
Little Golden Book moments
Into the branches of a backyard cherry tree
If only to imagine pink snow in April
~ Snow was pink, where we once lived.
Tears slip behind doors. Slammed. Sorrow’s shelter from Storm.
Love reigns behind doors. Quiet, stone still. A soft head against a shoulder.
Doors close. Locked. Listen as our footsteps flee.
Doors whisper, tell the stories of a life.
I’ve fallen hard for old doors. Chippy paint, cracked glass,
hand-hewned architecture . Bespoke.
~ A Sunday Moment
• Photographed by my sister x
He turned the dial on the radio. Another voice took over, silenced the demon. This voice scorched through his skin from surface to core. Notes rose, touched the ceiling and dropped to the floor. The alto voice admonished and enchanted as the lyrics hugged father and daughter. Nina Simone, “The High Priestess of Soul” punched the tiny room with passion and spirit, nestled herself into every corner, tucked her soul into each cupboard and drawer.
There is beauty to her darkness
A night-time thing
Beneath a moon strewn garden
Of tangled roses and thyme
A Cashmere Queen
Stone still, she reigns
Her once beating heart, silenced
There was another time
Of windswept words that splashed like water
To cool the burn that seared my skin
I glanced away and she was gone
Yet this is now
She stands, stone still
Words tattooed across a shoulder
“Auribus Teneo Lupum”
and everything I had ever lost, is found
tangled in roses and thyme.
~ The Boy Next Door; The Cashmere Queen
“Linger. Spent peonies remind us that spring is timeless. Old souls know this.”
~ Moments Matter ~ Grace Writes
~Design Book- Shabby Chic Interiors~ Rachel Ashwell