Wild Garlic

Whistling,
she carries wildflowers
and wild garlic
stains her sleeve.

She is not
from the city

I stare
at the white blossoms
caught in her hair.

My shoes
on the pavement
her hair blows wild.

Songbirds chitter,
pip, squeak
in the bordering trees

in a startling thunder
of wings
they fly.

Her laugh
takes to the sky.

She, an earthed breeze
in a close London square.

I stare
at white blossoms
caught in her hair.

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Owl Owl

Owl owl

soft in the sky
your white
strength
flies dark
wisdom
in your
infinite eyes.
You drift
a dandelion
white
as I
rooted to the
ground
know flight
in your
curling arcs
wings delight
Could I fly
with you
and leave
an empty wake?
Could we fly
until morning
without a trace?

Phoenix Heart

Dazzled by
candle flames
I drop to
inner eyes

and startle at the
brighter fire
of the phoenix
heart

encased in
perfect light

with a love
born of fire
it takes flight

with
bright flame
wings

its rare
freedom

shatters
the night.

Just found out two of my poems are accepted into the glorious Urthona magazine! Coming this winter.

Inky Revealed

A big thanks for everyone who shares my poems by reading them.  It’s a lovely thing to know they ‘live’ in others, and that we share a moment of communication beyond what can be captured in words.

I write, not only poems, but other stories from fantasy to light romantic reads.  My recent summer story ‘The Right Kiss’ is out on Amazon if any of you enjoy that genre, it’s here:

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Right-Kiss-Monday-Mystery-Society-ebook/dp/B00W47YVL

Otherwise, here is my latest poem.  It’s inspired by a friend who was telling me how she never ‘fit into the boxes’ at school, etc- she lives in her own way, a free spirit:

Screen shot 2015-06-17 at 11.14.19

Best wishes, Inky

Freedom

This one is slightly different than my norm as I have stuck to a rhyming structure. Comments welcome!

Freedom eludes us
the moment of flight.
Bars that once caged us
loom black out of sight.

Any lengths travelled
map straight back to Here.
The grace of our wings
beats heavy with fear.

A tether holds tight
and keeps us from sky.
For fear can weigh down
a thing that can fly.

We need but glance back
where we aim to part
to finally know
what cages our heart.

Garden Wild

I live outside
of things.

I creep close
to the bushes
and grunt
in the leaves
with the hedgehogs.

I breathe in
sweet jasmine
I breathe out
all the houses
I used to know.

My dress hangs
on a rose thorn
in a closet of
moonlit marigolds.

I am captured by
green wild owl
eyes and
none of the places
I used to know.

My face turned
towards sun
my heart a
flaming bird
burning as it goes.