She shares his pleasure
gained from teasing her tresses
before the mirror
She shares his pleasure
gained from teasing her tresses
before the mirror
Filed under Self compositions
Breathless, as much due to excitement as the very steep narrow path I had just climbed, I rounded the bend not knowing what I expected to find. It was still there, though. I could vividly remember the day that the old thatched roof was removed and replaced with red tiles. A bit of the community died with it’s removal. Now I saw that even the shiny tiles had not survived the intervening years. A sorry sight but one that still gave me joy. Memories came flooding back as I surveyed what were now the ruins of the old Chapel. Twice a day on Sundays, my father, mother, and my four brothers and sisters had walked the steep path up from the village to join with the other families in worship and the acapella singing of praises to the Lord. The congregation consisted of a stern-looking preacher in black and only another three families, who lived in the adjoining farms in the steep, dark, rain-soaked mountains nearby. All of these were now long departed and the small family farms merged into one large corporate sheep-rearing unit with a farm-manager and two permanent staff living in the large modern farmhouse. So many ceremonies had taken place in that chapel but all the couples who had been married, the children who were baptised and christened, were now spread far and wide, possibly, in fact probably, dead. I myself had left many years before, settling down to married life with an out-of-towner as she was, by my parents, not so jokingly referred to. Now she too had gone and upon her passing I had decided it was a good time to make this pilgrimage to the land of my upbringing one more time. But this time I was not alone, my constant companion a shadow that clouded my every waking thought. “That damned pipe will be the death of you, ” she used to say and so it has proved. Upon hearing the news from my friendly but sympathetic doctor I knew that there was only one thing I needed to do. And here I am, preparing to lay down to sleep in the welcoming arms of my mother church, in the hope that I shall once more see friends and family past.
Filed under Self compositions
Shadows and sunshine
resulting then replacing
following life’s path
Filed under Uncategorized
Haiku
I choose the three cards
my past, present and future
are revealed to me
Filed under Haiku, Self compositions
In the immortal words of Fox Mulder, “I want to believe.”
Chris The Story Reading Ape's Blog
After the torrential downpour we experienced yesterday, walking in the park with my dog, Danny, was a special pleasure today. The woods were full of puddles, some the size of small ponds. The trees drinking up the water shook off the rain and set their flowers and new leaves dancing.
Japanese scientists suggested a few years ago, that walking under the woodland canopy an activity they call “forest bathing” improves immune function, reduces stress levels and promotes creativity.
Cleaner air and less noise and distraction play a part, but some researchers also argue that the trees may give off a mist of “wood essential oils” which have a beneficial effect.
New research recently measured an improvement in cognition after subjects of the research took a 50 minute walk in a treed park. Not only the improved air quality and quiet affected the walkers but the colours and complex shapes in…
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Filed under Uncategorized
Face of the Goddess
alluring without effort
seductive power
Filed under Uncategorized
Crowds excitedly
watch his self-immolation,
invoking Karma
Filed under Self compositions, Uncategorized
well, may we wonder
at the thought within his head
perhaps reflecting
we disregard the hunger
and can see only beauty
Filed under Re-blogged
Somerset Maugham
probably enjoyed life in the dorm
saying a man would be merry who
would include my name in a clerihew
Filed under Self compositions
with a little thought
fast food need not be so plain
Summer barbecue
Filed under Self compositions
My writing, my books, my poetry and a bit of running.
Brett Kristian
Writing, reading, reflecting.
Independent Publisher of Poetry and Prose
There are dragons and magic in the world if only you look for them... V.M. Sang
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um...
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Art is Life
Driveling twaddle by an old flapdoodle.
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Vashti Quiroz-Vega, Author, Horror, Fantasy, Thriller, Short Stories & Articles
A QUIRKY LOOK AT MODERN LIFE
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the magic begins the moment you start being yourself
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a resource for moving poetry
Odds and ends of British history in no particular order
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bemused razzle-dazzle
Author Aspiring
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my humanity in written form
Published in Gold Dust magazine, Literally Stories, Near to the Knuckle, McStorytellers, Penny Shorts, Soft Cartel, Whatever Keeps the Lights On, and Shooter magazine.
Just another blog of random thoughts.
Aspiring to be the best at writing. Poetry lover, haiku and free verse to be precise, I hope to one day master
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Writer & Translator
Writing Advice From A YA Author Powered By Chocolate And Green Tea
Doing the best I can to keep it on the bright side
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Life is make believe, fantasy given form
What the world needs now in addition to love is wisdom. We are the masters of our own disasters.
Writer. Feminist. Historian. Person.