Category Archives: writing


It was the brush of the airerato_monte_calvo

The smell of apples

The dance of chimes.

She whispered a greeting

And your breath stopped;

You either  give yourself to the feeling.

Or accept the rust.




The spider’s weave your storyImage result for free images of cobweb in the attic

At night,

In the attic.

Caught in the moonlight,

The prisms dance.

The roofer walks

Into the web;

Finding holes under shingles.

He was scheduled.

Your first kiss;

Gossamer threads.

Entwined in his hands.



“It is all I have,”Image result for woman's handgold ring  palm up

she said.

Her hand;

Palm open to scrutiny.

The ring;

A buoy .

“Hmm” he said,

“Not near enough.”

He lied.


Did they fall in love?

Their siblings,


Exchanging furtive glances

Amid the din of conversation

At social gatherings.

Was it the push of time;

Calling for their own independence?

Their parents encouraged the union;

Not love but the pull of convention.

Standing on the bay,

Newly married.

The harvest in, and the geese on their yearly journey.

He promised to build them

A house where they stood.

His hand weaving their future in the air.

Ring gleaming with their vows.

Their bodies still a mystery to be discovered.

A farm, an orchard, and eight children that will live.

A long happy life together.

In the space of two centuries

The ceaseless waves will wash their trace away.


I honour you with my determination;Fitness Woman, Girl Can do Strong

No minute lost.

The world is fulfilled.

We push beyond the borders;

Marked with the lines on the map.

Adorn the palace;

And create.

Love letter to C

They found your name

In an ancient language.

Mysterious something

Brought to life.

Crimson tinged:

Life’s blood made real

By your spell.

Danger hides within the seed.

It is a

Smooth transition

From pain to pleasure

As they sew you up


Related imageIt was in the clouds of the sunrise

I heard his voice.

Full with the blush

Of a ripe peach;

The taste of exploration.


He called me;

As close as a lover’s whisper,

As clear as a command.

He told me his name

Nothing more.

Perhaps it was enough.


Name knowing,

Now we can find

Each other in the dark.



Image result for hands holding soil free imageThe sun rises on the fertile soil;

Heels are exchanged for hoes.

Action is the spine in the body.

The statue of mother shadows the maiden.

Breath is magic.

We dream of Avalon

While planning for Ever-After.

The paper thin lines of life

Keep us humble.


I slip into myself

An awkward child

All legs and arms.


Eyes furtive

A bull calf

Trying spindly legs

This world

So large.

The God calls

And I answer.

Images are atoms.

I love.

Open to all

Life will unfold

As it will;

And I grow.


Image result for lips of a statueHe carried a pitchfork

And a hoe.

I dreamed of

Innocent and hard passion

In the back of the bus.

We played tug of war with our eyes

And no more.

I am a widow,

Mourning for the

Death of us.

Little Fears

Tales of humour, whimsy and courgettes

Elan Mudrow


Dirty Sci-Fi Buddha

Musings and books from a grunty overthinker

The Art of Blogging

For bloggers who aspire to inspire

New Beginnings

A safe haven where the mind is free.


Poetry, free verse, haiku, senryu, photography, books, art, philosophy , nature, literature.


Be careful, I might convince you.. You are art.✨

Poems for Warriors

"Surely there is a future, and your hope will not be cut off." Prov. 23:18

Michael_Malachi - The 6’6/Giant

Something for Everyone...from Poems, to TV/Movie Reviews, DIY Furniture, Artwork, Memories, and More. Lets go on this Art Literary journey together! 🤞🏾🖤

Learning to write

Just your average PhD student using the internet to enhance their CV

Reverie in reverse

Phillip's latest reveries


New content every Sunday.

Anxiety The Bitch

We are present in the millions, yet we remain unheard

My Spirals

• Hugs and Infinities

Bright Moments Catcher

Bright Moments Catcher - by Alex Markovich. MarkovichUniverse AT

The life of a dreamer.

"She believed she could, so she did." 🌙

Bealtaine Cottage, Ireland

Colette O'Neill... Environmentalist, Author, Publisher, Photographer. Creator of Goddess Permaculture.


Looking Through the Cracks of Time


My Imagination is the DEVIL on my shoulder