Sssslithering, ssssliding, sssslinking ’round tox-ssssick tree. Shiny apple offered; foe friendship ~ flattering, falsssse. Forked tongue a twissssted tale teller. Laden with loathssssome liessss; sssserpent’s sssseditious charm. Shedding sssscum-sssscaled faux-ssssparkle sssskin, bedazzling innocentssss to wanton, wicked wayssss. Sssstrike! Hsssssssssssssssssssssssssss …. ~*~ Early last year I wrote a series of 14 poems prompted by a prolonged … More Viper
Shakespeare June 23, 2001-November 21, 2017 ~*~ Dearly Beloved Dedicated to those loved and lost Dearly beloved … How can you have gone? One minute living your life, The next ~ no life to live And in my life A gaping, lifeless, dark hole Where once shone your living light. Oh, how I miss … More Dearly Beloved
Don’t over think this, I tell myself while contemplating a response to my niece’s inquiry about my taste in music. Amy’s 12 and at an age where she’s developing her taste for many things, music being one of them. “Well?” Amy waits not so patiently at the wobbly kitchen table, one hand dipping into a freshly made … More A Taste of Music
A little solitude. Yes, that would be a fine thing. Time to myself. Time to meditate; to day dream and, perchance, to rest. Hmmmm … a fine thing, indeed. And I suppose, as I watch my 12-year-old niece, Amy, snuggling with Max the big orange and white tabby who’s basking in the sun by the … More Solitude is Your Friend
“Would you read something to me before we turn out the light,” asks my sleepy niece, Amy, as I tuck her into bed. “Please.” With her parents off on a well-deserved long weekend, Amy’s pulling an all-nighter at our house, something which doesn’t happen often, but which she loves because it means she can help out with the horses in … More Bedtime Story
~*~ “Matyas, what are you doing?” “Playing Liszt on a sad, old piano,” replied Matyas as he fumbled over the bass clef of an abandoned, battle-bruised upright. “But, we are in the midst of battle.” “I play anyway.” He culled from memory the patterns of finger play for the opening bars of the Hungarian Rhapsody. His lately unpracticed, … More Buying Time
~*~ “Which, of all the goodbyes in your life has been the hardest so far?” Manda, my inquisitive 12-year-old niece, has asked the impossible. Good grief. How do you tell a child, albeit an old soul, about the painful goodbye to lost youth? How do you get the young to understand that all that lies between youth and old age … More The Hard Question
“What are you thinking about?” Manda plops down beside me on the window bench and follows my gaze to the paddock. The sun is setting. It’s a perfect time for reflection. “You seem so faraway.” “I am, sweetie,” I sigh. “I am.” “Why?” “Oh, I’m thinking about your great grandmother. If she were still alive she’d … More Fanny
It’s 4 o’clock of an early spring afternoon and the mood in the kitchen is blue. As Manda and I both stare out the window to the paddock and survey the damage wrought by a spring ice storm we are rendered numb; speechless. Mother Nature was reckless with her pruning shears. By the light of a … More In the Pink
#FWF Memory Prompt: Write about your earliest memory. Good, bad, happy or sad. Before you begin, take time to dwell in that memory. Absorb everything you can about it. What you see, what you smell, what you hear and mostly, how you feel. Let it resonate. Marinate your mind in that one moment. Then begin. … More Alfie
Shedding Light on the Family Tree 