The Refugees

  No one was
  in that sea
of starfish

though few
had been

tumbling in
empty rain
and rolling
roaring waves.

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

and the storm

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

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.


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,
sear through
storm clouds,

breaking the
with flight.

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

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

Between tridents
of lightning
and the blackness
of oyster-deep

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

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

We, soft, stand
on shore
and begin our

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.

Heart Song

If my heart
could sing
it would sing
to you

of the floating
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!