Tag: outdoors

Lonely Bubble

The boy pulls my arm Look at this bubble! He cries, and sighs In delight. It sits, unharmed, on the rainy tarmac Wet and round and glossy A perfect hemisphere A ghostly fried egg imitator A final resting place With no predicted pop. It… Continue Reading “Lonely Bubble”

The Path

This poem was written for Sue Dudley, one of the winners of a competition during the Pagan Federation Beltane Online Festival. Sue was happy for me to share the poem that she inspired. I just never got around to it until now! I am… Continue Reading “The Path”

Waxing Gibbous

This is the kind of stuff you get if you sign up to be a patron of mine via Patreon.

Autumn Colours

I’m an autumn photography addict. I can’t help but get snap happy at this time of year. Colours leaps out at me from every angle and I want to capture it, hold it, cling onto it as if the fiery colours can actually warm… Continue Reading “Autumn Colours”

Summer Jewels

Summer walks with the children.

Greydawn

When the sun doesn’t rise Majestically over The horizon But diffuses through cloud Like milk spilling Through ink When bird song sends Rain shivering Onto sodden paths When the moon has fizzled damply And stars have sighed and left Without saying goodbye When night… Continue Reading “Greydawn”

A Day in the Woods

What a lovely weekend. I was honoured to be a part of the Online Beltane Music Festival, run by the Pagan Federation Disabilities Team, and really enjoyed seeing the other speakers and performers and interacting with the guests. For those who can’t get out… Continue Reading “A Day in the Woods”

Secret of a Daffodil

I place my ear gently to the golden trumpet What secrets do you hold? I heard you whispering Just as you called to Persephone Am I distracted by your beauty Waiting for Hades to snatch me away Or am I the kidnapper Of my… Continue Reading “Secret of a Daffodil”

The Mist

Swirling shroud A watery veil Like tired eyes; A crazed wail Cracks through the cloud Of foggy fear The eyes alive As shapes appear Looming, lunging Awkwardly Towards a shuddering Effigy Of something that used To be alive Now lost in the mist Struggling… Continue Reading “The Mist”

The Call

White treasure, petals bright Fall from high to small Hands and fingers, softly lands Adoration; springtime’s call.