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The door frame marked her exit;

One space between life and death.

Heart pounding against skull

Pushing her forward.

Outside was not far enough.

There must be more;

A distance


The synapses.

They register fear-

Scream for escape.

Protection of a silent drumbeat;

Memory of love.

Now there is only

Crowded rooms full of laughing faces

Turned to her direction:

Sticking fingers in the pain,

Making the tear greater.

Father now

The end in sight;


Solace at last.

Loving arms that keep the

Wolves at bay:

Respite and enough.


In his story

I am a shadow;

Anchored in his boat

Tethered to his song.

A respectable beast decorated

To show

His splendor.

I remained

Steadfast in my role and honoured

The name

And promise.

Gave his children life,



Endured violence

Guile , flattery and flirting

And stayed true.

And then

He returns.

And I find my place on the mantle.


Warm hand on soft skin

Is all lost?

Heart ;

Cacophony within the chest.

The lungs struggle to catch up

Foreign matter on a distant shore

Yearning for more.

One more

And I will explode.


Learn the wisdom of the ivy

And grow

Beyond here

Ground yourself and

Aspire to the heavens


I am not enough.

My loyalty was too strong;

Intangible idol.

Gave too much

Expected too little.

My bank account too small.

My heart too big

My feelings too fragile.


Too thin

A rope to be explored

Without a safety net.


Salisbury P 001I have been here.

 Not me really.

The collective : my family, my country

Our history.

Past , present and future.

Is here.

On Salisbury Plain.

To witness .

That tank sits covered in moss.

It matches her red hair.

The aged family picture album

Dulled to yellow  and grey.

Once white tents that held out the rain.

His passion to capture the beautiful moments;

Life hungry for more.

Their  love displayed in the rear view mirror.

 The connection between us

When we touch.

A land

Weary with human


Sighs at our daytime excursion.

Maybe even smiles.

Somewhere between the past and the present

Time stands still

When we listen.

Murmuration of the starlings

God’s sighting.

Dartmoor’s Secrets…


New Love


Ripe untouched apple

Full of bitter sweet


Bee loved.

She follows her heart

Into the grove

He promises to follow

Both seeking a light

that is only found in dreams

in the corner of their vision

just out of reach.

Until now.

Avebury…trial by water…



A request;

Weaving the lines of my life together

One woolen strand at a time.

Piecing the tapestry

On the loom.

Two names;

Separate identities.

A deeper hue

The door is shut

The key lost

The threads hang limp

Waiting for a whisper through the keyhole

Will you share?

Save the Arts in schools!

“Imagination is the beginning of creation. You imagine what you desire, you will what you imagine, and at last, you create what you will” – George Bernard Shaw

Chronicles of an Anglo Swiss

Welcome to the Anglo Swiss World

Wuji Seshat Nibada

The poetry addict

Wayfaring Focus

A blog about travel and photography by the documentary photographer Johannes Laaksonen

Live & Learn

David Kanigan

Light & Shadow

Once more you hover near me, forms and faces Seen long ago with troubled youthful gaze. And shall I this time hold you, limn the traces, Fugitive still, of those enchanted days? You closer press: then take your powers and places, Command me, rising from the murk and haze; Deep stirs my heart, awakened, touched to song, As from a spell that flashes from your throng. Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, "Faust, Part I"


Life-Nutrition-Health-Poetry-Travel- Art-Photography...More


A Woman After His Heart

The World according to Dina

Notes on Seeing, Reading & Writing, Living & Loving in The North


Hunchedbacked Ramblings of a Quasi Disgruntled Hopeless Romantic

Just Out Of Curiosity

My writings about sports, games, movies, music and other things.

The Teatime Reader

Reviewing a good book every week. Updates on Thursdays.


Poems, stories, and photographs -- old and new -- by Steve Dewey

Poesy plus Polemics

Words of Wonder, Worry and Whimsy

A Faded Romantic's Notebook

Otherwise the night is too dark

Arabian Aphrodite

الوَجْه الآخَر لِلقمر


Technology in Education


When will we ever learn?: Common sense and nonsense about today's public schools in America.


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