Poetry

  • Creating an art business that sells comfort.

    I’m taking the leap, and I’m so very excited. There is a beautiful feeling of comfort within as I embark on this new phase of my artistic life. For the past few years I’ve been aiming my art and writing… Continue reading

  • Light

    It’s not an accident that my body sings. Rings, like a tuning fork bashed, dipped into a river to ripple the fish to sleep. Light. What is it all for? A nervous system shedding its scars. A river sending them… Continue reading

  • Love. And That Quiet Ache

    ‘You are the Sun, I am the Moon, you are the words, I am the tune: Play me.’ My heart sits in a quiet place, this morning. We celebrated my Father in law’s 80th birthday last night, and it was… Continue reading

  • A New Chapter and What Comes Next

    I’ve written once a day for a month. It’s been so, so lovely to have this place back in my life, again. To have you all back in my life, again. It feels different. Good different, but different all the… Continue reading

  • The Journey to Self: Discovering What Home Means

    I tried to say goodbye. To start something new, in a place just a little different to here. I tried on new words, I tried to place myself in a box, neat and tidy with a bow. But each time… Continue reading

  • Fragments

    Fragments of time show me who I am. Moments, unless, of course, I lose them also to the violent speed of things. I am ‘me’ again, for this moment. Maybe it will last a while, if I’m lucky, this sensation… Continue reading

  • Life, However It Looks

    Life, however it looks, is the question. Love is always the answer. Continue reading

  • Stay Home

    The soft hum of an opening heart. Barely a whisper. Barely a moment of life unfiltered, but enough. Closed eyes, whisper. Come home. Stay home. Continue reading

  • Bird Song

    When I am the pure song of the bird, I am limitless. The wind may bend my tune, at times, but I soar, above, beyond, eternal. How sweet it must be to remain pure bird song. I, for now, must… Continue reading

  • Rolling

    It is how I am today. This darling tumble weed, rolling slowly down the precious hill they call life. I no longer search for a deeper wind, to roll faster or better… than what? I simply roll, and sigh, and… Continue reading