Writing

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 thorns.

This Flash Fiction piece features a character from Welsh mythology, called Blodeuwedd. In 'The Mabinogion', Blodeuwedd is conjured up by magicians, Math and Gwydion, to be a wife for Lleu, who is also a magician and a warrior.

He has a gold smile and a bell at his throat. He guards me as I write. He was a present from Japan – a place I have never been to, never will go to. I am no traveller, yet, I am drawn to delicate portrayals of Japanese life: a bridge, a hut, bright flowers.

I've been hastily putting together a cover for my festive themed short story these past few days.  Initially, I struggled, chewed a few pens...

Waterford Writers Weekend is fast approaching, my excitement levels are rising . . . The urge to blog about it cannot be suppressed any longer! I will be reading a selection of my poetry at 2pm in Bishop's Palace Cafe, Waterford on the Saturday of the festival, March 23rd.

A solitary heron, silver-grey, his stature great, resides within the river village, old man hunched and scouring.

Her song finds the spiders each morning, moves along the webs until they quaver. It doesn't occur to her to dust or hoover the creatures away. They are hers. She admires their composition. Legs, a bare tremble. Heads, like black tears.

July can be a heady month; pollen still strong, the sun burgeoning. So far, this July has been a little damp and cooler than expected, but as a hay fever sufferer, I'm not complaining at all! I've been busy observing nature and scribbling fragments of summer micropoetry.