- The Voyage Home
- Hidden Valleys…
- Solicitude
- Scotch in a Tea Cup
- Motherhood in Open Air
- Anchors Aweigh
- Centurions
- Steeped Stories
- Oxblood & Scarlet
- Little Pieces Everywhere…
- A Scratching at the Floor
- House of Mirrors
- Diamonds on the Dust Heap
- Snake Skins & Fritillary
- Say ‘thank you’
- Belonging
- Firmament to Fin
- Missing My Target: A letter to my American sister
- Balancing Structures
- For Fun’s Sake
- A Poem: A Cog in the Wheel
- The Anatomy of a Life
- Flourish
- Wayside Daisies and a Southern Lullaby
- Ballast
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The Voyage Home
Virginia Woolf’s authoritative understanding of words came to mind as I contemplated a particular word that had been banished to the shadows of modern life. “…words, are full of echoes, of associations – They have been out and about, on people’s lips, in their houses, in the streets, in the fields, for so many centuries.Continue reading “The Voyage Home”
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Hidden Valleys…
It had languished on a shelf in our much-loved village charity shop. A silver plated cooler with the word ‘champagne’ etched onto its side proclaiming, just in case any one was in doubt, its place on the table. The tarnished bowl was surrounded by soldiers of cut crystal stem glasses. Glasses made for a generationContinue reading “Hidden Valleys…”
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Solicitude
When the dust of a busy morning settles I head to my blue room with a cup of tea in hand. ‘My‘ being the correct term as no one in our house is under the illusion that it is theirs. The blue room contains a fireplace and bookshelves that bump their heads on the ceiling.Continue reading “Solicitude”
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Scotch in a Tea Cup
If only Mark Twain and Virginia Woolf could break bread at my table. I would be equally delighted and terrified. Since reading A Writer’s Diary by Virginia Woolf and then The Selected Letters of Mark Twain edited by Charles Neider, I’ve been straddling different continents of form and thought. Both author’s were masters of theContinue reading “Scotch in a Tea Cup”
Ivy and Palm 