Back Home – Poetry
Back Home Mumbles greets, with pop-to-shop chatter, the ping of welcome, the smell of new, Welsh crafted gifts and the slow-down of browse. Home is in the accent, in the dragon on a chain, in the protest of my heart when away. I am back, and the sea is my pacing companion, my frenzied host,…
Sculpting – Poetry
My hands are imagining you, the cool pale, your shoulders, like hawk wing, I sculpt,
The Aunts – Flash Fiction
The aunts never shaved their legs. They rolled up their trousers and ran into the sea.
Petals – Micropoetry
When you wake with petals strewn at your inner imaginings, you try to live up to the sweet start,
Micropoetry: Language
It’s a mystery, how the mind leaps from primitive sound to intricate, webbed sentence,
Micropoetry – Piebald Rug & Flood
Burgundy-earth patches on cream, soft as calla lily.
Flash Fiction: Maple Leaf
The maple leaf stops them. Its veiny palm invites examination, as peach and pale green cross shades. Autumn does this to maple leaves; scorns their attempts to cling onto their tree of birth, strikes them down, flattens their flame. And then, somebody finds the leaf, finds charm in its crown-like edges, its slight resemblance to…
