Recent Comments

Ursula O'Reilly on SPIRIT
7 minutes ago

keith jeffries on SPIRIT
27 minutes ago

Holden Moncrieff on New Stars
7 hours ago

keith jeffries on Post-War
7 hours ago

11 hours ago

Gail Botterill on Wild Woman (Part One.)
14 hours ago

Gail Botterill on New Stars
14 hours ago

Gail Botterill on Post-War
14 hours ago

Gail Botterill on The Box
14 hours ago

d.knape on John Botterill
19 hours ago

owl - with a film by Paul Healy

owl sinks soft

like a silk handkerchief

bringing blackness to vole and leveret

soft as fog

sharp as razors owl sinks down

like a blanket over a birdcage


swish, away, a lens shape,

slips into the barn

quiet as snow….



Read and leave comments (7)

Song - Lavender man


Lavender Man


Oh the Lavender Man

He didn’t come today

We stayed in all morning

He didn’t come our way

The sun was so bright

We wanted to go out

But the Lavender Man

He just wasn’t about.


Now ladies need their lavender


Read and leave comments (6)

lavenderneeding and wanting....and waiting......


you breathe out

I breathe in

I breathe out

you breathe in

I decide….

not to breathe


so we stand

lip to lip

heart to heart

hip to hip

open my

eyes to see

your eyes



why should I

give my breath

I can stop

when I want

as you wait

for oxygen

I see thoughts

behind your eyes.


I hold my br...

Read and leave comments (9)



the water is cold

as I dip my hand


silver-eyed -

a minnow



my fingers open

my hand

is a cup


the minnow



the minnow



to me


magic and fleeting

a mercury being

the whole world



his scales




Read and leave comments (5)


city in the sand


There is a city, hidden in the sand

where few have visited. I understand

it glitters in the scorching noonday sun.

To find it is the dream of anyone

who feels that they deserve great wealth,

who follow, creeping like a sphinx, in stealth

to enter through the golden portals great -

answer a riddle and confirm their fate.

The city’s treasures are truly renown...

Read and leave comments (3)

citiessandwoman power

january fairy

Back in her box on a bed of cotton wool

the January fairy closes her eyes with a tiny click.

Laid on wings of wire and net,

dusty tissue covering her faded dress.

Gauzy girl, she knows nothing of spring breezes,

has never seen a daffodil,

felt the warmth of a summer night.

The fall of leaves in autumn is a mystery -

she’s never seen the budding of the trees.


Read and leave comments (11)

dead sheep


There’s a dead sheep – swelling by the hedge

a woman standing by the cottage door,

a ghost


waiting for her man.

What should she do?

The sheep is dead with lamb wedged deep inside her.


Night creeps in

she lights the lamp

and paces.


The sheep is heavy

on her conscience now.

A female presence,

a legacy

of treachery from lo...

Read and leave comments (8)

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message