Storm Petrels

Hello readers,

I have a flash fiction story up on Page&Spine magazine this week. ‘The Freedom in Me‘- read it for free.

And tonight’s poem- Storm Petrels. Thanks for reading these and may you be safe through storms.

Black petrels,
knife-winged,
sear through
storm clouds,

breaking the
sky
with flight.

We, softer
must stay,
wrapping our
arms and legs
entwining
into one
starfish.

Great wails
of wind and the
sea overturned
carries unknowns
across our
fragile shelter.

Between tridents
of lightning
and the blackness
of oyster-deep
pearls

we press our
hearts together
creating a moon
between our hands
fingers pointing
north.

Along with
driftwood, kelp
and shells,
the petrels land
in a bright morning.

We, soft, stand
on shore
and begin our
flight

hand entwined
in hand
pointing north.

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Star-Shaped Grief

She spread
on the surface
of the great green
water,

star-shaped.

Her heart
told a tale
that would crack
land
with its
violence

but currents
softly carried
each secret

to wise depths.

As her heart
bled out

she became
the unbreakable
ocean.

When she gathered
herself,

to return to her world
to keep quiet again

there was grief.

It was not her time
to rest
in the immensity
of natural love

she

star-shaped,

had to walk
the land again.

A Splash of Life

When we rose from the dead,
stumbling and laughing
moonlit shadows
on the sand,

we stubbed our toes
on cockles and whelks
we swooped and cried with
seagulls cartwheeling
in sea break tumbling
onto sand.

Spent, the sea
stretched her fingers
and licked our bones.

She took us out
and out until
we were
moonlight
water
and salt.

Peace Angel

You ripple
soft blue
black wings

a manta ray
curling under
clear salty
ocean

I feel the thin
wake of your
gliding

bringing beauty
to the cry
of my pinched
heart

I want to follow
the curve
of your wings

that great glide
deep through
green
black

even
sightless
depths

I keep your
shadow light
form
in view
as I dive

the wake
of my heart
rippling

I descend
in search
of your silent
peace

Night’s Cloak

Night’s cloak veils the land
I stop walking and await
Radiant moonlight

Last week the full moon was out over the beach and the wild ocean in Wales.  I went to a Haiku workshop, and this came out- if such things interest you, it is in the traditional 5-7-5 format (5 syllables in the first line, 7 in the second and 5 in the third).

I just published a new novella- Painting Pretoria, encapsulating the beautiful and mysterious colors and moods of the ocean.

Red Rising

My mind colors
the moon

a red rising
in the night

that bathes
the black canvas

of deep,
secret water.

Those in the
starfish depths

holding tight
to seeming
solitude

surface

look up
and color

each other.

There are
crests of
roses

upon the sea

and the great
pulse of the

great heart
of the world

beats in our blood.