White Roses

White roses
on a storm
grey sea.

Handfuls
thrown for
silent hearts.

White petals
for her
silver birch
hair.

A crown
for the sea
queen

who once
graced land

who once
graced me.

The Refugees

  No one was
alone
  in that sea
of starfish

though few
names
had been
spoken,

tumbling in
empty rain
and rolling
roaring waves.

Clothes, shoes,
money were lost
by the time
the new land

appeared
and the storm
blissfully
stopped.

The moon lit
the sea,
and recognised
the soft, pink ones

as hers.

She gave them names
that could not
be taken or spoken
but were known.

Star hand in
star hand
they walked
to shore
together.

I wrote this poem about five times, all different- I couldn’t settle on one. I hope this one will do justice to something- I was thinking about refugees coming across the sea and thinking about loss and grace and gain all at the same time.

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Of the Sea

We are all of the sea
-all

the waves
our salt life,
our hair
seaweed.

You can turn
your back
and act apart

but your salt
water veins
move with the
moon like mine,

your heart
trembles
in the same waves
as mine.

We are all of the sea
-all

connected by
salt waves
through our hearts.

 

Discovery

Watching day
end,

we spread
under pink
lavender skies,

sunset starfish
taken by clouds

tangling and untangling
in the unknown
lightness of air

until we awaken
to that
element
within and between
and of us.

We drop
into the sea
with the sun

wondering if
we are coloured
pink
lavender

or if we are
even

of the sea
anymore.

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.

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.

Mermaid song

You have a
richness
of treasures
in your eyes.

Like the old
sailors cried
to the
mermaid
depths

of the great, wild sea

I say oh so
please
don’t sing
to me.

Heart Song

If my heart
could sing
it would sing
to you

of the floating
world
the blues
and greens
all lit with
yellow hues

your gaze
the sun
smiling in
my heart

light slants
on an ocean
of riches
I’d give
to you.

If your light
were dimmed
deep under
the sea

my heart
would sing

it would
sing you
to me.

Sea Dancer

Dancing dragonfly
in her green eyes
bare feet
in the cold
wild sea.

She is shell sister
sand stomper
child of the
dancing sea.

I went on a meditation retreat by the sea, and was inspired by the playful spirit of our retreat leader. She bravely waded in the cold Atlantic and walked barefoot in the sand. I love the sea, but Wales was too cold for me in March, so I kept my shoes on!