Words archive. Poetry and descriptive writing.
Silence. There’s something about a silent house. That space, in between the tick, tick, tick of a clock, when the fridge stops humming, when the heating is off for the summer. A silence lying thick in stone walls, air still and heavy. Time feels stretched. I am an interloper, a shadow, a thought. Waiting, as… Read More Silence
Away from the News. Away from the news, a soft breeze brings a hint of coolness through green leaves. Waves lap up a pebbled shore, constant, rhythmical. A ray of sunlight falls on morning dew. Away from the news, laughter echoes from gardens as people gather in friendship. Young birds learn to fly, and feed,… Read More Away from the News
Together, apart. After the memes. After the shouting, the knee-jerk buying, the panic, the refusal to accept. After the swarming of national parks. After the threats, the beating heart of community, the pleas on deaf ears. After the news, the updates, the endless, endless statistics. After it all. A slow acceptance of the trembling fear… Read More Together, apart
One from a bit back – the endless frustration of cfs… I don’t know who I am and I just want to scream. I want to scream at stillness, shatter through this grey existence like breaking walls of glass into a million glinting shards. I search and wail and am lost in the years of… Read More Scream
The rain drives a thousand needles into my skin, sharp as pinpricks, and I raise my face to the wind and welcome the pain. My toes squelch in boots long sodden, jeans dark and soaked right through. The wind screams at me, buffeting and battering as I raise my arms and scream back at it,… Read More Wild
I like the wrinkles round my eyes that crease up when I smile I like my crazy curly hair (although it’s taken a while) I like picking a tune out on old keys or strings or tin or wood I’m finally realising that it’s ok to say I’m good I like my tiny little ears… Read More I like the wrinkles round my eyes
It’s warm today, but not the searing heat of weeks past. Muted, warmth in the breeze, echoing the gentleness that hangs in the air. Plants still flower but without the vigour and brightness of high summer. Smaller flowers, duller tones. Leaves begin to droop, ever so slightly, as they cling to the parting waves, echoes… Read More Last breaths of summer
Give me good news instead of wars and bombings, instead of death and conflict, instead of secrets and hoodwinks. Give me good news instead of global warming, instead of disease and famine, instead of injustice and food banks. Give me good news instead of racist language, instead of control and fear, instead of demands and… Read More Give me good news
In these 4 walls Time stands still The air heavy with secrets It waits; until A whisper on the breeze Hints through an open window And we let go, Breathing out things We didn’t know we felt
Winter, I greet thee; Voice of the North carried in howling winds. The crackle of ice freezes white bones, and lays my eyes down to darkest black. Winter, I greet thee; Air thin as rainbow glass, light glinting as water trapped in snow so fine. Spirit of the North travels in the rip of branches,… Read More Winter, I greet thee