A grey, windswept day
her world and mine collided that day
I met her on my way
to find myself in paint only for the pay
Shadowy grey, cold day
her face coming to me in a certain way
If only I had more pay
to be beside her soul and paint her day
Poetry | Stories | Photography
A grey, windswept day
her world and mine collided that day
I met her on my way
to find myself in paint only for the pay
Shadowy grey, cold day
her face coming to me in a certain way
If only I had more pay
to be beside her soul and paint her day
Flickering sea colours
Soft phosphorescent flickering, sea colours rise into the night.
Illuminous coral colours
Heavy, subdued, luminous waves of sea colours wash across the city.
Melting sea colours
Light meets dark between the city and the night.
a soft summer dawn
almost perfectly moody
melting of colours

The dirt and the heat: fiery ochre dirt blazing away in the sun.
I travelled for days to find you, yet I know in my heart that you are dead.
As I find no strength to go on, the grey clouds of my childhood gather, the rain starts to fall, and I reach my denouement.
the indigo sun
scorching the land
a dispossessed heart
no more cares to give
the flames turn hostile
entitled to own this land
burning books is easy
a destruction of souls
satisfies a dark hunger
fueling the Flames
everything ends
not until the Flames find them all
Cobalt blue to the horizon
the warmth renews
Baking on the banana chair
pale skin turns pink
Adorned in blue and gold
skin sparkles gems
A Bold Queen on the Nile
worshipping Horus
The water cools warm skin
feeling oddly wet
Reality seems too close now
neighbours’ hose
Persimmon Sunset
The light starts to fade early
Goulash and Spatzel
looking through your eyes
paper lanterns glow to illuminate the night
a foreign language, place
becoming you for a while
complex scents of incense, herbs, spices
memories linked to scent
feeling what you keep safe
memories and moments create understanding
destiny crawls toward you
scents, words, and the glow of the lantern
nothing can save you now
touching your sword and falling into death
A summer dress in winter
Sometimes green, sometimes black;
never brown or orange.
Unconventional stockings
A contrast of colours that stands out;
offensive to the conservatives.
Elegant and controlled
Walking in every nature season;
odd looks fail to offend.
A daydream within a dream
Falling madly in love with the park bench;
continuing the journey.
rows of women accompany rows of vines
as generations before had done, they picked the pink crimson berries
too young to understand the status quo,
she imagined
a palette of pink, crimson, seal brown, and black pouring from the sky
as the women became formless, saturated colours
all the colours falling, all the women unseen, and slowly
the women, the vines, and the farm dissolved away to be replaced by blues, greens, yellows, and greys
unlike the other women, she left the farm when she was old enough
she was an outcast
no berries touched her fingers
yet she saw all the colours in a new light
felt the sea on her feet
the desert sand touches her face
and she became free