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14 Dec Found Poetry of Ragnarök
And of this I know. There is one called Wind-Cool.She winter’s sire,Fierce is its race, Loud sounding For measuring moons.Eldest in days. pä vas fyrst af mant And there is one called Rain’s Poison-drops.Answer well dread race ofAncient childrenWho from frost’s arm wasBorn. Thou of old.Thou of art.Thou of wind over waves,Moon’s devourer andTroll’s firstBreath.…
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Friday 13th: Ten Things of Thankful
In no particular order: 1. Lovely soft cashmere bed socks on a freezing cold night; my feet are eternally thankful for small mercies. 2. British strawberries in December. I am thankful for agricultural miracles but may I have a Christmas Mandarin orange, please. 3. I suppose I should be thankful that it’s not snowing, but…
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12 Dec: The Relevance
The Relevance The sun light,it’s like yellow roses. A sky blue peepshow between clouds that spring and foam. Dad’s painting seascapes again.He keeps a wandering eyeon my sister and I. We walk the beach.Looking down. Beachcombing. I’m always on the move, I’m told,for fear of calcifying, Dad says. One day I’ll look up that wordso…
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11 Dec: Ink In Thirds 100 Words
In the Light of a Lamp I’ll say right upfront that she didn’t kill herself. Mum told the removal men where to place the piano; in the dining room against the south-facing wall, but when Dad came home he glared at the piano and walked past it like it was a naughty puppy who’d peed…
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10.12 Found Poetry of Ragnarök
Ragnarök: Found in the Weavers Of this I will know, the power of weavers,the wend of beings wise. Weavest of will. … himin hverfæ ferr menn And I will come from my roamingand wandering, speak riddle-reader. … hykk at illa geti kömr Magic weaver. Ancient sage.Who comes to me with a cold heart. Are they…
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9 Dec: A Six – Heads or Tails at The Three Moles Pub
Beyond an Intersection Named After an English King and a SaintSix Sentence Story: Day 3 Heads or Tails at The Three Moles Pub We’ve stopped for lunch at The Three Moles pub near Petworth, West Sussex; it smells malty sweet, old wood soaking up fumes of dark mild ale, (we both order rib eye steaks,…
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8 Dec: A Housewife’s Ecstasies
A Disturbing Paragraph from a Housewife’s Ecstasies Crane fly on the walllicking at grease,and a blueberry piecooling on the pine table,you know the one –it has the Queen of Spadesfolded into fours so itstays level, won’t rock, the one inthat corner; that corner that always felt empty of air.Mama used to keepa four-leaf cloverin that…
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7 Dec: Ten Things of Thankful
In no particular order 1. I am thankful that the storm (yes, another one, plus one more is sitting off-shore) that blew through West Sussex earlier this week didn’t cause too much damage. A few limbs fell, and no leaves left on the trees, but that means no more raking leaves (always looks on the…
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6 Dec: Journal of Thoughts from Last Week
A Poem that’s Not about Dave’s Knickers although that’s the way it started and so the song begins. we sing,as the piano tumbles noteslike confetti that pops on one’s tongue.we climb the notes,a confection for pretty tones falling as we rise and rise up,our voices high as a storm-boundballoon, and we are waiting for our turnto…
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5 Dec: A Thursday Door
Bushboy (Brian Dodd) shares photos of doors, but not just any doors. Spectacular doors from his journeys. Dan’s Thursday Doors opened the door on this. I love doors of all sorts. I’ve trawled through my holiday snaps and found a few to share. ©Misky 2023 Shared on X #amwriting @bushboywhotweet and @DAntion
It's Still Life 