Poetry | Stories | Photography
Dancing within our words,
sitting by the amber lamplight.
Looking at the other,
we see particles of starlight.
Loving what is blooming,
La Luna words by the moonlight.
The door you can never enter,
intricate patterns carved into the door.
A child should be seen and not heard,
so you dared never enter the wooden door.
Older, you arrive at the house from long ago;
no longer a child, yet you have the heart of a child.
No longer afraid, you are dripping with curiosity.
To hell with it, you whisper,
then turn the handle and walk into the room.
Your Grandmother sits at her desk,
within a room of dreams and magic,
‘I wondered when you would join me.’
You smile and take the stars within your hands;
now you are ready for your mother’s secrets.
‘You have always been a witch, and now it is time to become one. Welcome to the heart of our coven, my beautiful Granddaughter.
I wish your mother could see this day, yet you know she still lingers.’
Shunned for being different, blamed for the famine and the storms.
An ostentiferous girl with violet eyes and dark hair, a beauty not fit for this world, was sent to live in the forest.
Walking to forget, to find kindness and a warm home, she stumbled upon a beautiful tree with a wooden door.
Feeling as if nothing mattered, she opened the door, stepped inside, and left the cold lonely forest behind.
The forest spirit
let me walk through the forest
without feeling fear.
A fantasy,
a glimmer of wings and magic.
Did I dream, or was it a fantasy,
looking into the bathroom cupboard?
A fantasy,
a gree fairy flutters before me.
Groggy,
waking up in the bathtub naked.
A fantasy:
no, it was absinthe and the cat.
A smile from ear to ear,
as the young one ships through
the forest searching for playtime.
Monstrous trees do tower,
and the feeling of them bending
inwards is a very odd feeling.
Odd feelings pass, as her
favourite tree approaches, or
she approaches her favourite tree.
Strange, as always, she asks for
permission before climbing
this familiar one, her safe one.
A flicker of movement out of
the corner of her eye
piques her innocent curiosity.
Feeling as though she now has
permission to climb, she climbs
the tree steadily, full of life.
Sitting in her spot, she looks
down and sees a boy, yet not a
boy; maybe an elf, forest spirit.
Calm, she watches as he walks
away; she calls to him, yet he
never turns towards her, gone.
She comes to visit this spot hoping
to catch a glimpse of him again,
and to see her friend the tree.
She hasn’t seen him for years,
yet her daughter just pointed and
said, “A boy Mumma! A boy!”
sounds from far away,
yet nearer than first thought
come to you in shoal dreams.
swimming with sharks,
yet feeling no fear for they are not
interested in your ethereal shadows.
sirens singing from far away,
yet their befallen sorrow songs do
not sway your mind for you
are
light
and
shadow.
The burning embers of our love blow along the wind to run up and down our skin. We came from a place only the Dragons knew, yet it was a place of passionate fire.
We had it all until you tore a hole through my heart, and I smashed our love into shards of crystal.
We stand in the silent darkness waiting for the earthquake to crush what is left of our love and return it all to the dirt ash.
My chest aches and yours broke;
still, I wish we hadn’t fucked it all into pieces.
Crown of Rose and Thorns adorn
her head for royalty is in her blood
She prepares for her wedding day
to the king of the woodland realms
Weaving a mysterious magic
within her cloth and bosom
waiting for the woodland call
to take her from this place
C & K 