Blooming Lovely

daisy

We are such late bloomers

Standing firm through all the seasons

through sabotage and reckoning

of self worth. We have learned

when the wind blows hard we sway

with it, letting the ready leaves fly;

Allowing ourselves to finally dance,

we are enjoyng. we have earned.

We are such late bloomers

but when the blossoms open wide

we all nod knowlingly, because

it was worth the living, for

the lessons we have gained

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The angry ditch

Featured

hedge

Thickety, prickly thorny ditch
You’ve been pruned for Spring.
You’re angry now,
Leafless branches pointing upright,
violated by a metal monster
with no regard for
your joints nor early buds.

The moss on your strong base tries to
passify you. Soft like velvet
sotto voce ‘You will have your day’
The ivy, dark and dry, winds
around you like a snake
‘I’ll give you life’

But no! ‘I’m a hedgerow! I will grow!’
There’s lots of rain and sun, you know.
You will grow and bud and thicken green
Hawthorn, Bramble and ramblers seen
in full life, gushing and lushing.
You will reign supreme in your beauty.

Memories from my balcony

City noises wail
like distant winds.
A washing machine spins
ferociously somewhere.
Birds are chirping
in the warm air.
As the breeze takes up
and takes hold,
the clothes are edgier now.
They are dancing
more erratically
Flying, Flitting, Flatting
in the high air.
A siren bleats far away;
there is nothing for me to do
except close my eyes
and be, in my tower,
on my balcony
in the City.

Closing my eyes
to be back.
Honking buses
The metro vibrates
under me.
Sun burning
my arms and nose,
free of clothes and rain.
Angry barks and cries
A dog is left alone
Smoke wanders up
Lovers talk on the phone
A toilet flushes.
Living close together
in pens, in the tower
But nothing gives me
pleasure like being
on my balconyBlacony
in the City.

Book Review: The Crooked House by Christobel Kent

The Crooked HouseThe Crooked House by Christobel Kent
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

An old murder case is dug up despite nobody wanting to relive it. Alison goes back to her old hometown with a longing for the truth. A guilt ridden detective, and old friend with secrets and lots of locals intertwined in this mysterious past. Thirteen years previously, Esme’s family was gruesomely murdered while she hid in her attic room in the crooked house. The story dealt with her memories and the piecing together of what really happened.
It was haunting, tense and atmospheric from the start. Suspense hung at every corner, and the reader was left hanging throughout with new potential suspects.
From page 210 I began to get frustrated with the number of characters still involved in the main plot. The three brothers, old friends, the locals from the pub, friends back in London, and that didn’t even include her boyfriend Paul or the family of the wedding Alison was attending. I think the plot should have been narrower at this stage.
While Paul was involved in dark and suspect scenes and dialogue, my favourite character was Morgan. Despite being in the background she played a huge role in the story. There was always a desire to know more about her. The main characters were all believable and highly visual.
The flashbacks and dreams were written well. The reader was brought back in time and forward with ease and the story emerged in this fractured style of writing.
I would recommend this book to those who like to read crime and mystery. There are lots of hooks and intertwining subplots to keep the readers interest. I found the first half much more gripping. However, for me, over halfway through the book I found myself rushing through to get to the finish. I needed more suspense and less characters involved at that stage.

View all my reviews

Shame

Hardened by the weather and attempts
to ignore the silent hysterical aversion in their eyes
darting in all directions to avoid seeing
his overgrown hair dribbling from nostrils and face
He shuffles past with his grub and filth in a plastic bag
Is it unreasonable to say hello?

11

Elephant woman

Mother And Baby Elephant

Wading through the grasses
on her way to water,
gracefully composed steps
mountainous swaying
heavy, but solid.
Mammoth motions
balanced by her trunk,
measuring her movements,
she takes time to get
to her destination.
Baby playfully skips
around her ankles
tripping carelessly.
Flailing his useless trunk
in the air, he tumbles.
She picks him up and steadies him.
Her eyes, like pools, blink sagely.
She moves him on slowly
to the water.

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