winter poetry

Read it aloud, like all poetry should be read. Go on…   A thousand stars just out of reach Their light a dying shine The early morning sky will leach Those twilight sparkling lines A new day dawns, the sky sparks red Burning sun over the horizon Warm limbs across a sheet strewn bed Reluctance…

A village secret

Ana swished her skirts around shapely brown ankles as she wandered the cobbled streets. Her leather shoes made a soft scuffing sound against the old stone as she walked, both materials worn smooth by years of use. She was only a few minutes from home, the brown door waiting for her, just a few stairs…

Body love and boobies

I’ve decided to love my breasts. Finally. I have spent too long hating and berating them, thinking nasty thoughts and saying mean things to them, about them. Thinking that they look like sad fried eggs on my chest. I used to watch young YouTubers parade around their rooms and show off their surgery scars, their…

my mum – superwoman in a cocktail dress

My mother is superwoman in a cocktail dress. Or at least that’s what my Chinese astrology book says, the one that I pull out at barbecues to make everyone groan. People may scoff but I think there’s a certain amount of truth to the little paragraphs in those pages, the tiny soundbites of peoples’ projected…

un sol

I am writing this on my iPhone, the tiny white screen and jumpy autocorrect not really conducive to creativity. But so much has happened in the last couple of weeks! The sand I am sitting on is warm and coarse, the strong breeze that pulls my hair from my shoulders is chilly, raising goosebumps along…

rain spattered windows

The car stopped with a soft lurch, leaving a residual shuddering that was like an almost imperceptible vibration through my body, a memory of the last constant hour of movement. The drops pattered on the thin roof and I looked sideways, down the rain slashed streets. Street lights gleamed on the wet windows, smeared into…

it’s a snow day!

It feels like snowboarding this morning. It’s in the light that just precedes the sunrise, barely a few breaths before the sun lifts just a few millimetres, lighting doorways and windows, shining golden light onto freezing cobwebs and filling the house with slanting yellow rays and long black shadows. It’s in the mist that rises…

cookies

The cookies are done. They sit in piping hot rounds, reeking of cinnamon and butter and loving mixing. The crisp of the baking paper, the rustle of the heat as it cools and crackles through the mixture, settling back into the searing black tray, causing the edges of the biscuits to curl upwards as though…

black noise

Her hands brushed in a soft rhythm against the warm curves of the plate. She closed her eyes, listening to the soft clink of the crockery, the light lap of the water on her forearms and the scrape of the cutlery against the bottom of the sink. Everything was quiet, this afternoon. The sun entered…

our house

My childhood home still seems such a huge part of my life. It has already shaped so many of my memories and I think in some small way it will stay with me forever, endless and omnipresent. We lived in the same house my whole life, a big red one on a hill, just like…