For Ronovan’s weekly challenge.
mist creeps now
not summer haze
and sand
is what slipped
through our fingers
For Ronovan’s weekly challenge.
mist creeps now
not summer haze
and sand
is what slipped
through our fingers
"Words are all we have" Samuel Beckett.
sharing the stories of interconnection
Jottings of a Storyhound
Books & Bonsai
Just another blog of random thoughts.
Artist by choice, photographer by default, poet by accident.
lines that aim to be
And then I stop and sit and eat.
Diary of a Dublin Housewife
New Zealand
A wee anthology of dark yarns.
New site available: www.procrastinationcoach.net
Horror in Literature and Film
The musings of an aspiring writer
Appreciating Everyday Life
Des enquΓͺtes Γ pas de loup pour apprendre sur-tout...
Poetry inspired by ethereal feelings, life events and personal philosophy.
Poetry, lyrics and other words...
Freelance Proofreader and Illustrator
Life after the Care Farm
*Poetry*Prose*Photography*
In 2002, Retinitis Pigmentosa changed my life. This is my story of a slow approach to darkness.
One Poet's Writing Practice
A bard among the living dead....
Poetry Publisher
galaxies in my eyes, the universe in my mind
Novelist, Prose Metrist, & Word Witch
(WRITER)
Gorgeous, Jane.
Cheers π
This is so evocative–and clever. I love the twist. π
Thank you π I’m not sure how much of the cleverness I can take the credit for and how much was spontaneous poetry.
Oh, take the credit! π
I take the credit for having a mind that throws up neat phrases inadvertently. Is that better ?
Well, ok. π
π
It did…it always does. (K)
Season and time wait for no one π