Wednesday, 17 December 2014

Spread the Joy

 The Christmas spirit
enfolds me
something I can smell
touch and feel

I want to spread happiness
Share the love
Feel benevolent

I hum carols
whilst I work
Smile at strangers
Drop coins at buskers feet

I feel the joy of the season
Perform little kindnesses

Think about those I loved
long gone
Remembrance of times past
and thoughts of future

Sending gifts
to show I care
this midwinter ritual
this festival
that holds a special magic

to each and everyone
I try to spread the joy

written for poetry jam #spread the joy

Wednesday, 10 December 2014


open field
In a world that roars
demands attention
be still
block out the clamour
inwardly wander
to a place of stillness
where serenity lives
seek solitude
a forest glade
a mountain pool
a hilltop high
travel in your mind
to find peace
listen to the silence
it speaks

Written for Poetry Jam #Quiet

Monday, 8 December 2014

Too Late

photo by Elene Usdin

Death has found me

the blood seeps
from my murderous wounds
 my essence
drains away
till nothing remains

A life cut short

Too late
for goodbyes
Too late
for I love you
Too late
for I'm sorry

Too late
for anything



Written for Magpie Tales #Mag249


Sunday, 30 November 2014

Bond of Union

Bond of Union 1956 M.C. Escher

Like atoms adrift
two people
bound together
yet kept apart
with skin like an apple
cored and dissected
unseeing eyes
 unfeeling lips
unconscious connections

Bound and wound
free form but imprisoned
experimentation gone wrong
as they fall into the void

No meeting of minds
or thoughts
no words or sounds
gazing into space
for all eternity

The emptiness echoes
round hollow caverns
hear me
see me
touch me
for I am lost
and unravelled

Written for Magpie Tales #Mag 248


Wednesday, 26 November 2014

How To ... Survive Lonliness

Being able to sit alone without feeling uncomfortable
You wake
get dressed
and start the day
try to be cheerful
come what may
night dreams are behind you
don't let them hold sway

one plate
one cup
you sit and stare
a dent in the pillow
but he is not there

you sweep
and you clean
as neat as a pin
you talk to yourself
as there's no one else in

you go to the shops
a friendly hello
a neighbour
a friend
you greet as you go

the days they are lonely
the nights they are long
you hum to yourself
a companionable song

you keep yourself busy
you plant and you dig

you're on your own now

and you don't

 give a fig

Written for Poetry Jam #How To

Monday, 24 November 2014


the wind moans
as we sleep
the snow falls silently



it pillows
and billows
and blankets the ground

 settling softly
not making a sound

written for magpie tales #Mag247



the countryside ravaged by winter storm
blanketed deep
snowflakes swirling
like a dervish

battered trees stand sentinel
frozen to the marrow
bones shiver
and blood runs thin
an indigo sky
whilst the moon looks on

the cold bite of winter
when snow kisses skin
frost tipped
and hoary
roads rutted deep

warm in our bed
we sleep
curtains drawn on frosted panes
dogs twitch
and dream
as embers slip
and settle
crackling flames leap

icicles form
on gutter and pipe
the silent earth
holds its breath
life giving

written for Magpie Tales  #Mag247

Wednesday, 19 November 2014


Love this distorted collage effect, could do this using animal and human faces
 Each day
I struggle
with who I am
blending into the crowd
a nobody

but in my head
I am different
from anyone else


there is only one of me
rare and precious

with talents unseen
hidden behind a mask
I lose myself
to indifference

ask me who I am
and I say
just an average Joe

I'm no one really

just me

Written for poetry jam #identity

Sunday, 16 November 2014


driving at speed
foot down to the metal
alone on the road

but for

ghostly cows
 in unseen fields
lit only by stars
and a gibbous moon

neon flashes
blue light exposure
tail gate following

into the darkness
an encompassing womb
swallowing you whole

radio playing
late night lullaby
a soft voiced DJ
your only friend

 road never ending
destination unknown
motorway markers
 affording no clue

follow the lines
as cats eyes blink
stay awake

it's later than you think

Written for Magpie Tales #Mag246

Wednesday, 12 November 2014


Never stop Dreaming -- Lucid DreamingAstral projection -- Please click here to learn about techniques for #AstralProjection and #LucidDreaming
your breath quickens
and slows
the darkness enfolds and caresses
as you slip
into your dreamscape

into an imaginary world
 a thousand realities
of multi-coloured hue

mind aswirl
image clear yet strangely undefined
encapsuled into stories
of your imagining

memories of people and places
like paint on canvas
daubs of reality and fantasy

past and present
a melting pot of desires
and night terrors
out of your control

slowly you rise to the surface
emerge from sweet slumber
try to remember

but like wisps of cloud
the dreams disperse
lose shape
and form

out of your grasp
fading into sepia

Written for Poetry Jam #dreams

Sunday, 9 November 2014

Star Spangled Banner

star spangled in her nakedness
 Miss America is she

state of the union


a flag-wrapped beauty
 publicity shot

 carefree all American
with flowing hair

brown limbed
long legged

arranged so artfully


positioned carefully
amongst the folds

hoist the flag
start the parade
and set her free

from her photo opportunity

Written for Magpie Tales #American - Tess provides the image, we the story


Wednesday, 5 November 2014



Ancient cliffs
Giant leviathon
Lashed by the sea

Millenia pass
Tides ebb and flow

Rocks rumbled and tumbled
Smoothed and shaped
Each one different
Never two the same

Drawn back and forth
Their journey limitless

Infinite pebbles
Pulled and pushed
Drowned and reborn
With each passing tide
Until sand is formed

Each grain a shadow
of its former self

Written for Poetry Jam

Sunday, 2 November 2014

War Games

Sticks and stones
will break my bones 
childhood games
toy soldiers
in miniature forests

Where anything is possible

a tulip for a gun
a leaf bayonet 

Cowards become heroes
and heroes win the day 
But when
reality bites
a game no longer
the garden becomes a battlefield
the toy soldier becomes a man

Fighting for his life

in a war

where there are no winners

Written for Magpie Tales #Mag 244 - Tess provides the image, we the story

Thursday, 30 October 2014


© Helen Warner Ode to a Nightingale

She sings like a nightingale
Her voice soaring
the audience enraptured
as her notes ring out

  a dreamworld

of musical beauty
her voice unique
in its purity

by any other

she loses herself in the moment
alone on the stage

her notes pitch perfect
bring a  tear to the eye
and free the soul

Inspiration prompt - Nightingdale at Real Toads 

Wednesday, 29 October 2014


I feel this piece of artwork in the depths of my heart and soul.
They break my heart
they always do
these callous men
that take and never give

Each time I weep and wail
throw my hands to the heavens

And vow

Never again

I find my heart
On my sleeve

Open and raw


 Now in the autumn 
Of my years
I rejoice that the chance
will not come again

I am sufficient
Unto myself
No more my heart will suffer
Slings and arrows

I am whole
Not needing another
 to complete me

This is my way
I will surrender no more
To the whims and fancies
of love

I am a shattered window
of fragmented prisms

I am alone
 it was meant to be

At last



Written for Poetry Jam

Tuesday, 28 October 2014


Amidst his wander he bumps into Thorn in the garden.  Thorn doesnt warn. He was born to scorn.  "Ouch Ouch Ouch am I in a bout."   Thorn all broke falls to his knees.  He Pleads & Pleads to not wake his queen - Rose.   Rose grows to glow the meadow.
We called the child Thorn
A rose by another name
The cross he would have to bear
His jagged frame
a weapon
his enemies no equal
This crown of thorns
 would make him Strong
 his name would pierce the flesh
and the heart
of his oppressors
He will prick their conscience
Draw blood
And be thankful
for his Anglo Saxon forebears
Read it in the Runes
they speak the truth
Written for Sunday Scribblings 2  #Prompt 43 Thorn

Sunday, 26 October 2014

Winters Chill

Snug under quilts
of feather and down
Eyes half closed half open
A dream
 part broken
 As clocks reverse
 and time stands still
 you wake
 to frost crazed panes
and icy breath
 Toes recoil and curl
feeling the frozen ground
beneath your stockinged feet
The camp fire fizzles
 and spits  blue flame
the coffee aroma lures you
  into the barren winter morn
brave as the first pioneer
 in a strange land
Goose pimpled legs and shivering heart
 cold as iron
 your cosy den a warm memory
calling you
to retreat
 with buttered toast
 and honey sweet
to break your fast
Written for Magpie Tales #243 - Tess provides the image, we the story

Friday, 24 October 2014

1930 Notebook ...

gregory crewdson artwork01 Gregory Crewdson Artwork

I have come
to catch your voice
Your constructed notes going out of the throat
With dry, mechanical gestures,
To catch the shaft
Although it is so straight and unbending,
Then, when I open my mouth,
The light will come in an unwavering line.
Then to catch night
Wading through her dark cave on ferocious wings

On, eagle mouthed,
I have come to pluck you,
And take away your exotic plumage,
Although your anger is not a slight thing,
Take you into my own place
Where the frost can never fall,
Nor the petals of any flower drop.

Dylan Thomas

Tuesday, 21 October 2014

autumn light

The garden is damp and shining with early morning dew
Bathed in sunlight
  through petals transparent
  throwing long shadows across the grass

Water droplets on purple ribbed cabbage
 a different kind of beauty
Whilst the bright sunshine-yellow stems of chard
light up and cheer the soul

Autumn is a time for seeking out the unexpected
 to catch the eye
as flowers fade and die
 thrown against a fence
The slow changing of  leaves
in their dying colours
Tomatoes cling to their withered branches

Change is upon us
Step by step autumn arrives
snatching the last glories of summer
bite by bite
The last rose petals fall
 at a mere touch
A version of this originally posted on  Ramblings from Rosebank )

Sunday, 19 October 2014

In Inceptum Finis Est - In the Beginning Is The End

Is that all I have been
No name to call my own
Not sister or daughter or wife
Who will remember
How quickly forgotten
In the blink of an eye
In Octu Oculi
The bole of a tree is my shelter
The earth worms my companions
Crack'ed bark will talk to me
I will listen
And when lichen viridian and moss soft green 
cover this marker
I will be consumed by nature
Turn full circle
Ashes to ashes dust to dust
My sum total
My being
My all
Lies beneath this cheapened stone
In memoriam

Written for Magpie Tales #Mag242 - Tess provides the image, we the story

Saturday, 18 October 2014

Mystic Moonlight

Mystic Moonlight

Leaf edges illumined
frost rimed
Catching the moons glow
Haunted by shadow
That lurks beneath

 They glitter and shine
As the wind passes through
in night time fury

Creatures scuttle and hide
Beneath its girdle
Shining bright

Homeward bound
To some dark den
Moss lined
and earthy

Ill met by moonlight
Branches creak and moan
No one can hear them
They stand alone


Monday, 13 October 2014

The Woman in the Mirror

I see myself
Four times removed
Through the looking glass

Click goes the shutter
Each a reflection
of my other self
Which one is real?
Am I
Who I think I am
Perceive myself to be
The woman in the mirror
Is she me?

Written for Magpie Tales #Mag 241 Tess provides the image, we, the story.

Sunday, 5 October 2014


Without stop
Barbed wire barrier rips and tears
Breathing hard
Pounding heart
Prickling sweat
Old man young girl
 Eyes wide open - heart shut closed
Not ever
A life over
Before it has begun
I can't
I won't
Without stop
The barbed wire holds
I pray to some unknown deity
Hear me
The barbed wire rips and tears
Pull away
Break free
Escape its metallic embrace
No old man no young girl
Just freedom
Before it's too late
Written for Magpie Tales #240. Image provided by Tess Kincaid. She provides the image. We, the story.


Monday, 29 September 2014


Beneath a tawny canopy
Rickety rackety stilted shacks
amongst the trees
September flicked her skirts
with a golden hue
as leaves of amber twisted and turned
And touched the ground
Wisps of smoke
and purpled berries glistened
with morning dew


Wednesday, 24 September 2014

In A World Of Sorrows

She trod carefully
Each step sending ripples
Across the lake
Minnows dart
Catching the light
A distant sun slowly wakens
the early morning
No sound but
The crunch of washed pebbles
beneath her feet
She is alone
The only person left
in a world of sorrows
No one cares
No one knows
The water cools her feet
and her heart
She walks on
To the end of time
Written for Magpie Tales #238. Image provided by Tess Kincaid
She provides the image, we the story