Scribbles
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The Traveller – a poem
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Beautiful Things
I have found that the world is full of magic, curiously, beautiful things. The first kiss of tea on my tongue, as my dosy head rises with the sun. The damp smell of thunderstorm moss, and my socks and sandals covered feet walk across – the scattered leaves, hair whipping in the breeze. How lucky are we, to live amongst Autumn coloured trees. To breath the air that my ancestors bear. To see candyfloss swirled skies, with my very own wonderous eyes. How lucky are we, to have tummies that can hold a million butterflies, at the sight of a full moon, or bugs leaving cocoons. Seriously, how killer, is…
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Writing prompt – responding to a piece of art.
How funny, to see the flowers hanging from the ceiling, the sun spread outlike a carpet of red and yellow swirls, scattered with little balls of fluff. Someone really ought to hoover those up. And when did ants grow wingsand take to nesting in trees, those little homesthat dangle from muddy branches, scattered with red and orange confetti? How strange the world looksfrom up here, as I sit quietlyupon my perch, licking my wings. – Notes from Dracula I went in search of a writing prompt to inspire a poem, and found one that simply said: respond to a piece of art. I looked up. Hanging from my living room…
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Scribbles and Such
I’ve been writing poetry, lyrics and short stories for as long as I can remember. But, I’ve never really shared them with anyone. I have notebooks scattered about, half-filled with musings and thoughts, daydreams, scraps of poems and stories that never quite made it to the end. My Notes app is so full it now takes an age to load (which feels like a sign of sorts). So I thought it might be time to get over my nerves … and let a few of the pieces I find myself coming back to loose into the world. So, here they are, a few scribbles and bits of nonsense, shared here…
