“I am out with lanterns, looking for myself.” – Emily Dickinson

GENTLE WORDS

You are kind

I am kinder

You are a flower

I am a bee

To grow, you need me

.

You are colours

I am the light

You are a river

I am the sea

We will merge

Eventually

.

You are the sky

I am the sun

You are the stars

I am the universe

Shine bright while you blaze

For all of your days

And collapse when you’re done

And remember we’re ONE

.

I am beyond

All you can see

I am there

When you think you are small

Everything’s LOVE

And my LOVE has no walls

I

.

STICK GIRL

on the crest of the hill she rages

head back

jaws wide

screaming

a badly drawn

stick figure

red triangular dress

scribble-rushed

on the crest of the hill she leaks

tear fountains

eyes ragged

flooding

face smudged

stick girl

line-feet

line-legs

on the crest of the hill she’s seen

stick girl

an ill-considered doodle

animating

drawn bad

drawn wrong

paper-bound

shredding

on the crest of the hill she’s heard

heart bleeding

chest hitching

despairing

but to those in the valley below

where life is stilled by snow

no one is so bold

as to be anything but cold

in towns and cities elsewhere

there is no discerning            no care

nobody grasps

the things that she rasps

as she rips out her scratchy lead hair

4 Comments

1. Tia L March 4, 2025 I love this! It’s really quirky & odd & also we can all feel like a forgotten doodle sometimes. Great poem thank you 🤩 written.
2. J S March 16, 2025 Wow. Stick
   Girl!
   Wow! 😀
3. Izzy April 2, 2025 I love this. It’s really different

2 Comments

1. Sarah Griffin January 23, 2025 So lovely
2. Tia January 24, 2025 Haven’t been back for a while but glad I looked cos I just love this! Simple and sweet – perfect

SONG OF THE EMPATH

Be free

I said and lowered my head.

Be free.

I drew in a breath,

Not sure if it was yours or mine,

This wind that wisps in fast

Is cold in my thudding heart and

Consists of nothing from the start.

Be strong

I said, and let out the breath,

Spiralling up like a whirling light.

Be strong.

It was not me – that breath I drew –

It was you. And this, I already knew.

Your tears were long and fast and wet.

Your heart splintered – fragmented jet.

Be strong.

I cried with you, but you brushed on past,

Not knowing me.

Be – me.

Two others skip by; I laugh and laugh.

A contrast to your pain.

A respite for me – a respite of joy. They frolic off

While I watch you go,

Turning the corner of the road. Gone.

The pain burns out like a withering match. And

I am me again. Pure me.

Me – be.

You’ll never know, I was right there

With you. You’ll never know

Who I am. Nor that I am alive.

You’ll never know that I got you – it was fleeting

But I got you. For a split moment in time

We shared one breath

And you buffered in my heart with weeping wings.

I hope you find peace. I hope your pain

Disintegrates like ice on hot sand. Warmed by the life-giving sun.

I won’t remember you. And you don’t know me.

You are but one of the many breaths that I breathe.

But all our breaths are one.

6 Comments

1. Heather Busch March 27, 2024 So amazing! I loved every line
2. Tia Lumsley March 27, 2024 This brought tears to my eyes. Beautiful. Just beautiful.
3. Sam Beeching March 27, 2024 Gorgeous and soothing! True art.
4. Sarah Griffin March 28, 2024 Really lovely! Read it lots of times and it gets better each time.
5. Harry April 1, 2024 Spoken like a true empath 🫶🏻
6. J S December 22, 2024 All our breaths are one! Great line!

I AM – Copyright (C) N. M. Sirett – The Lightworks Passages

I AM

Allow me to introduce myself

I am the toll of the bell

The berry on the branch

The reptile in the sea

And the jewel in the mountain

I am dusk and I am dawn

I live and breathe in the very air

The ozone

The trees

I am in the stars

I am the cosmos

I am in you

I AM

And I am you

And him

And her

That and this

For I am in everything and I am with all of you all the time

I am the omnipresent

The one who comes to set you free

I am the blossom that floats on unseen channels and drifts slowly into the hearts and minds of every being

I am a thought

A spark

An idea

A flowing spring that bubbles and stirs near the volcano’s edge

I am crisp

Light

Air

Over a mountain range

I am birdsong hidden in the trees

The ripening tune of dawn

I am everywhere and nowhere

I am never alone

You are always with me

We are one

No matter how many times you run or hide 

I will find you

For there is no place for you to go where I cannot see you

Feel you

Think you

Be you

You are mine

I am always yours

I am the perfect dream that lasts for ever – entrenched in your heart

Your friend, your guide, your perfect love, your deepest, kindest aspirations, your humanity

I am peace

I will never let you go 

I will stare into your eyes

Into the depths of your soul

And

KNOW YOU

For I will never let you down

I will never destroy you

Nor will I watch you come undone or walk away 

I will never desert you 

I will never force you

Interfere

But just call upon me and I will comfort you

Keep you warm and safe

In an imperfect in-perfect world

Its design

Perfect

I am the easel in which you paint a masterpiece

And master peace

I am ultimate

I am friend

I am love

And you are

I AM

Comments

1. Sarah Griffin February 28, 2022 Just beautiful
2. Harry March 9, 2022 Love this !

Helena of Athens

Growing up in Hermia’s shadow,

  Thin-skinned

  Susceptible

  To this farce unfolding before my eyes.

  The forest’s cover shelters me,

  And I remain invisible

  To watch

  What I do not want to see.

  This power in nature

  Which, if only ever stems

  From the juice of a flower,

  Is not worth tasting.

  Your erratic glances

  Moving at angles,

  Swerving away along another path. Mocking my tender sentiments

  And subjugating my assurances.

  Thus, rendering me

  Obsolete. And so,

  To prevent such a pounding,

  I remain in the shadows of the forest of Athens.

  Carefully eluding

  The juice that drips

  From Love in Idleness –

  A seemingly deadly flower

  And

  As a result, the misjudged aim of Cupid’s bow.

The Land of the Sleeping Lions

You can come to the land of the sleeping lions,

Where the great beasts never stir,

You can stay and do whatever you please

And at no time ruffle their fur.

.

You can live in the land of the sleeping lions,

The nook that sundry seek,

And bang your uproarious, deafening drum,

Dream pipes are buried so deep.

.

Oh, this fair land of sleeping lions

Is so fertile, you’ll do well,

To know that your bounties will prosper,

When you sip from its purest well.

.

Don’t dismiss all the folktales of glory,

From times that have since gone.

And their champion ways,

From the good ol’ days, filled with laughter, mirth, and song.

.

There’s no need for sweet lullabies

To keep the big cats in a snooze,

The earth could shake, and they still would not wake,

So, what do you stand to lose?

.

Dwell on in the land of the lions,

They will ignore you so.

And you’ll feel at ease in its heavenly breeze,

Fickle tides of rain, sun, and snow.

.

But if you bring dark ages to linger,

And sew them through the years,

Be cautioned – do be ginger

With a sleeping lion’s tears.

.

You’d do well to remember,

Upon your footsteps tred

Carefully as a whispering tree,

In the land of the lions so dead.

.

You can visit the land of the sleeping lions,

Their warm heartbeats slow-soft,

Their ears are silent muffs

And their minds have flown aloft.

.

You can put down camp or build a house,

Here in the land of the lion,

And feel so warm in the scarlet dawn,

With its chivalrous shield of iron.

.

A warm welcome to all! Pray, do have a ball!

There’s no vetting, no passport, no sifting…

And the lions don’t know what fruit you will grow,

They are, all of them, too busy drifting…

.

Yet, one word of warning to all:

Do adhere,

Lend an ear

Dear friends…

May your conducts keep you good

And well in your hearts

If not, make amends.

.

For the day will come –

Away now! Run! –

When the bleeding cup,

Will wake the lions up. 

,

The White Rose

be still

you will see

a single white rose

be still

you will find

it has purity

it knows no good

it knows no bad

it only knows its Maker

unaffected by pestilence

white as light

waxen delicate

it sits on an arrow-like bush
unapproachable beautiful

engaging the light
but always there be eyes

seeing only thorns

the secateurs

smiling sweetly as they

snip snip snip

yet God’s sagacious designs maintain its rebirth

enabling it to grow once more

with even more vigour than before

a most defiant bloom

.

.

Sabbatum Gold

Thrust out from the pattering roadside,

Chest up,

Nose north,

Sleeping…

*

Knocked from consciousness

That bright, autumnal morning,

With stone eyes fixed.

Sky bound.

*

With an outstretched,

Auburn, regal and

Spread-eagled cloak;

A cosy blanket to lie upon,

She did not stir.  There on the road

She would wither on.

*

Direct honey beams

Shone as rich as solid gold bars,

And as level as spirits,

Pouring in through a haze

Of panelled tree lines:

A natural stave outlining a platinum track.

*

One zillion spotlights spilled

Through tawny branches

And spangled twigs.

An elaborate, luminous set,

That freely provided splendour

To the place where,

The little creature slept.

*

A velvet vixen: ginger-brown, with a soft, white breast.

Sadly her ruby-smudged undercoat

Had already surrendered.

No more, would the traveller catch

A glimpse of her bushy tail

Swiftly disappearing between two

Hedgerows.  Or that fence…

*

Ginger’s fur apparel was

Fanned out like bat wings.

Jet black was the nose aimed sharply at heaven,

Foraging for immortality; some esoteric flora,

Beyond the road I travelled along.

*

Her eerie night call silenced,

Her animation stilled,

She rested there, as bright as the dawn,

Spun gold and beautiful as the new day.

Oh how could she leave behind such prettiness?

In the sun’s light she sparkled

With dewdrops, glistening perfectly.

The morning mists hung heavy on the grass,

Freshly frosted and cool…

*

Thin trunks gently swayed

Their burnt ochre branches

Lazily, and waved me upon my way.

They moved deliberately,

Outside of time.  Their natural navigation,

Redirected my route,

Like tree police at the scene of an accident and

Whispering… “Move along now madam, there’s nothing to see here”.

*

I wondered, was there magic afoot?

*

So the journey continued,

The scene altered, and new things shifted into play.

I could see him, we were

Eye to eye for an elongated second,

A beady brown look,

Prickles aloft;

Good morning to the hedgehog.

*

He greeted me in his woodish manner,

Inwardly and without sound he spoke.

Nature’s great mystery,

With its surrounding magic,

Introduced us.

And so we connected…

And then I was gone.

*

I drove on and into the increasing light of the ascending star,

Rising above me and lighting my path.

Leaves bustled and bounced across my bonnet.

Dancing maroons, crimsons, berry reds, limes and lemons;

A crispy rainbow to keep company with,

And I pondered…

*

Was it the light that struck my windscreen so?

Was it the wind that whistled softly at my car door?

Was it the contented fox or the hedgehog crossing?

What, may I ask, purged me so?

*

That morning was gold,

And it’s meaning too.

Nature had spoken

And the voice,

Was loud.

.

.

Solstice Eve

Eternity cushioned the eve of Solstice,

And we flew –

Up in the air, up in the air

We followed a star on a bridge of light,

And we flew –

Up in the air, up in the air

Sledging along to the same old song,

Still, we flew –

Up in the air, up in the air

Riding the waves of jade-green and blue,

Where we flew –

Up in the air, up in the air

Showering the earth with treasures untold,

And we knew –

Up in the air, up in the air

The ones who deserved the gifts that we threw,

Yes, we knew –

From up in the air, up in the air

The Aurora Borealis laddered and thread,

And we followed its route wherever it led.

We travelled on high,

On that path in the sky,

Julemanden, the reindeer, and I.

*

.

 

A Brick Façade

False face – no trace – laying the first row…

  A semblance of brickwork

  Which I make

  My wall with.

*

  Laying my foundations deep…

  Through the mantle

  Between the crust and the core

  I entrench my wall.

*

  A blanket of stone blocks

  Each one overlapped

  And sealed with cement…

  Airtight!

*

  A superstructure.  First to ardour

  Burning heat

  And then to bake the bricks

  Of armour

  Fired in the kiln…

  Build, build, build

  My sweet structure

  Laying every row…

  Erecting a fortress

  Which is strong enough

  To shield

  My conflagrant heart.

*

  And yet how readily

  Can this screen sever?

  Segments shifting into sand…

  At which point I scourge my feeble front!

  That so-called brick façade

  That all too easily comes tumbling down

  With one fixed, unfeigned look

  From your eyes…

Two Golden Moose

High in the north
Where the great wheel turns
Two moose appear
In the wield.
All you will see
If you peep through a tree
Are some antlers
All twiggy with gild.
.
The male has a call
That he bellows to all and
The female is gentle like deer,
Yet both are a sight
As they walk through the night,
So honoured with nothing to fear.
.
Both these creatures can feel
Deep thoughts turning real…
As they feed from the forest’s sweet fare.
There’s harmonious pride
When they walk side by side,
An encounter which hangs in the air.
.
High in the north
Where the great wheel turns
Are the moose 
On a musky spring night.
Self-esteem is their strength
Which they carry at length
And use wisely, all golden and bright.
.
Their wisdom does weave
New thoughts through the leaves
As creation brings forth new ideas.
Two golden moose,
Together allay
All their previous worries and fears.
For in wisdom they know,
And they know all too well,
In creation they two were coined…
So with all that said,
Rest their osseous heads,
Trusting in conscience… 
And joined.

ALL THINGS

In the beauty you make

I see you

In the light that you bring

You are whole

When the sun is ablaze

Shadows must swell

Bulging dark patterns so dull

.

In the light you emit

I see you

In the light I receive

I am free

Filter on through the day

Slicing the night

Never quite going away

.

In the light where you breathe

Tomorrow

And fresh sight comes to pearl

Dewy eyes

In the grand sweep of time

All things shall come

To light in the light sublime

STAINED GLASS

Red drips the rouge from the sun’s eye

Blue deeply illuminates, weeps

White is the milk-tide of late summer

Silver, so metallic-pale, is feisty like a stormy sky

The green a salt-crisp, succulent samphire – raw

.

Gold limns the inside world

Orange enriches all

Purple sets a regal tone

And yellow highlights well

.

Rainbow bright this window, lush

Oh, what makes it thus?

Well, dear one, you may well ask…

Look up there, you see?, stained glass

SOUL MATES

Deliver me

A peaceful soul

On petals pure

Who’s very essence

Holds a cure

And honours truth

Who celebrates

Love for me

Integrity

Bring forth

A soul

Connection

Bright and honest

Friend

Prepared to fight for all I’m worth

Lifts me high

To angels

In the sky

For souls like these

Are rare

Indeed

And friends

Like these

I wish to breed

To be alone

Is such a shame

A life like that

Has nowt to gain

TODAY

Today went by so fast

Not funny

.

I wanted it to last

It didn’t

.

Today was so much fun

The memory

.

Now this day is done

Yup brilliant

.

Today is now tomorrow

I love it?

.

I loved yesterday

So bite me

.

And

Now

There is

Today

Let’s be having it, then

SWEET PEAS

Unfurl sweet petals

Unfurl

Sweet Peas

That creep and climb

Unfurl sweet colour

Magic

Bring joy

To the heart so ripe

Just by blooming so

LIFE RHYTHM

Trust in your heart

Believe in your soul

Know your way home

This way

.

The heart be a drum

Beating your life

Into the rhythm

Of day

LOVE DANCE

Love is a performer

Dancing on the stage

Capturing onlookers

Twirling for the praise

.

Love is a great dancer

Glissading silk and grace

Easy on her tippy toes

Commanding all the space

UNIFIED

To the unified field I go

Tally ho!

To the unified field I go

.

Through the nexus of time

Sublime! Sublime!

Through the nexus of time

I go!

.

I can see you all there

Little bells! Little bells!

Ringing true what you surely are

.

In the unified field

Beyond your 3D

Is the dream time –

Oh, no need for concern –

If you’ve nothing to hide

You’ll be safe there inside

As I watch you. And slowly discern…

THE PEN

The underlying white

Invites the nib

Down I press

A rush of living waters

Flows like rapids

And I, in my writer’s raft,

Steer the oar. My pen

3 Comments

1. Tia L April 1, 2025 A fabulous treat today! Thank you for a lovely little collection! Love Stained Glass!
2. Izzy April 2, 2025 Great little collection. The Pen is my favourite but loved them all. Beautiful 🤩
3. Sarah Griffin April 3, 2025 I enjoyed reading these, thank you! The Pen is my favourite.

.

FORSYTHIA

four yellow arms

reach out to squeeze me

four yellow charms

glimmer my way

one single eye

sits at each centre

regarding my wonder

this early spring day

…

sunlit coronas envelop each petal

enhancing the golds

in a soft ochre glow

birds orchestrate, harmonise in the blue sky

songs to applaud

such a glorious show

3 Comments

1. Tia L April 1, 2025 Glorious! Glorious!
2. Sarah Griffin April 1, 2025 Such a glorious show indeed! Love forsythia X
3. Isobel April 2, 2025 Ah, beautiful poetry!

.

BAILEY’S BIRDCAGE

The warder’s key jangles

The archways narrow

The Fleet’s stench is underfoot

Shrill is the right of juries

Loud in my ears. Injustice. The verdict: lies

I stand

accused of…?

Outside, gaslight deepens its hue

A funnel of savage light. Lamps flare

But diminish against such hideous glowers: blazing blue –

Gaslight blue

The clock drags a solemn hand over its weary face

And mourns me

I place one foot before another

Treading methodically

Along an encroaching passage

Walls loom – like their sneers

I didn’t…

The evening’s blade is whetted by visceral hatred

Gaslights fire up the square

Beneath the lamps stand an ungodly bunch,

Rudely cloaked in guilt and denial,

Masked behind

The casting of dispersions. Upon shield-less me.

The lamps burn bright. Gaslight blue.

To match the withering sky

The truth of the day is swathed

In night’s cruel blind

Stars appear like secret winks – they understand –

I need wings,

And access to the warder’s key

But this birdcage is sealed with an iron-clad lock

And the only flight I’ll take

Is through the noose

I was ignored down here

Forgotten in the dirt

Until the cell door squalled open

And blood bloomed in my brain

Pulsed in my chest

At the juror’s words

Echoing down Dead Man’s Walk

Reading it wrong,

Twisting the pen,

Nib bending to their will

Until

The story is about them

Which it never was

Nor was there written proof

Their rewritten words condemn me

They, who fake righteousness

And are, thus, believed. I am accused of their

Make-believe

Injustice steeps me in an abyss of black pain. Cuts

Deeper than real guilt.

When guilty, one can confess or

Repent

But false accusations

Cause wounds that don’t heal. And great sickness

Curdles the mind

The birdcage is a steel dome

With freedom-gaps I cannot reach

My hands grip the railings

And my lifeline bleeds

My silent breath pours into the space which is free

I am

Wordless

Resigned

Outside the crowd comes to the boil

And froths. So densely thick,

Hypnotized by the light of the gas

Those condemning streetlamps

Waiting…

Anticipating the act

A frill

At my expense

I’m too wise to utter words

Or demand defence

A last right

Even a last meal

But I know that

You cannot pour water on a wooden flower

And expect it to bloom

Beneath the gaslights

Many feet shuffle

Impatiently. They stand

To gain

From my pain

What do they stand to gain

In vilifying me?

No matter

My truth would only dissipate like summer clouds  

Oh, sweet stars

How I wish I had wings

And the warder’s key…

Burn gaslight, burn as bright as you can

I walk the dead man’s walk

The rope awaits my throat

And the spectators need

A show

In the gaslight’s glow

Spice for the prosaic pot

Like the canary

Down the mine

I’ll take your gas

And do the time

The bird that drops

Inside the cave

Will haunt you so

Beyond the grave

The bird will choke

The bird will heave

The gas! The gas!

Now you can breathe

Comments

R Ward March 19, 2025 Very 😔 sad. An innocent hung 🥲 brilliant writing

1. Tia L March 26, 2025 Ooh the Old Bailey? I’ve read about Dead Man’s Walk. Never think about the innocent ones though – tragically poetic injustice!
   Great writing!
2. J S March 31, 2025 This is thought-provoking 🧐
3. Izzy April 2, 2025 Woah, deep

WRITER’S LAMENT

There’re books in her eyes, so they turn away

Away from glass panes and those lives beyond eyes

For to see through those windows and into that soul

Might loosen their grip on perceptions they hold

Might slacken constructions they’ve built in their minds

Of the fickle, the pointless, disinterest and lies

Might reveal something else that that they don’t dare to see

Through those windows reflecting a calm nothing sea

And slowly the waves fold in on themselves, those watery eyes

And their whispering tales

Sinking deep in her soul, carried off by the whales

Currents run deep and they turn away

Not wishing to drown in some fathomless day. Not wishing to

Try to imagine those worlds, in the bottomless seas

And abysses unfurled.

Like a conch of abundance her stories are told

To the air and the octopus, the coral and rocks

To the lighthouse she heads, with her siren-sung verse

To be free from the storm and this lonely word-curse

There’re books in her eyes, though the pages are wet

But the boats sail on past, and the sailors forget

2 Comments

1. Sarah Griffin May 29, 2024 Just beautiful ❤️
2. J S December 22, 2024 Lovely ☺️

GRANTED, LOVE COMES

Love comes

But it is sometimes nothing new.

Love comes.

It shapes us, smoothing our souls like silk on glass.

Love comes.

When it is given freely,

And has been there all our lives,

It becomes like air.

A thing not thought of

But used. A given.

Love comes –

Is granted. Like breath. Like life.

And given generously, sometimes, say… by parents.

We accept it but do not acknowledge this kind of love.

It has been fed to us in the womb.

Love comes in birth.

And we take and take,

Breathing it into our blood to fuel the oxygen already there.

Without a second thought.

It is natural and familiar. Unlike falling in love,

Which can be raw. Or the novelty of a new friend. That job, that career.

That song.

Love comes in many different forms.

Love comes.

But granted love is given to us.

It is our birthright.

It is parental love. That unseen force

Driving us through our day

Granted

Unconditional

Free

Unfelt

Until…

Love goes – slips past the veil

To an intangible place.

And when love goes,

When it is no longer granted love,

We stop taking it for granted.

We stop. We suddenly feel what

We only thought was breath.

But there is no such thing as only breath.

Without air, we cannot survive.

So all the while you have love that is

Granted, be thankful. And try to feel it

Running through your veins.

For once it is no longer granted to you,

That precious gift,

You will need to live with the empty spaces

Swimming alongside the blood flow – that life force.

You will have to still live.

And perhaps, you will grant your own love

To a little one.

New to this world.

4 Comments

1. Sarah Griffin April 20, 2024 Oh wow, so thought provoking. Beautifully written.
2. Harry May 28, 2024 Never take real love for granted.
3. Clare Ward August 2, 2024 Gosh this brought a tear to my eye 🥹 So beautifully written.
4. J S December 22, 2024 Moving words

THE MUSIC BOX

We are organic creatures.

Not permanent at all.

Our conditions are not stable.

The writing’s on the wall.

.

And still, we take for granted

The time we have on Earth.

So much of it is wasted

Since the moment of our birth.

.

The music box inside you

Plays a weary song.

So turn the key and wind it up,

For life is not that long.

2 Comments

1. Sarah Griffin April 18, 2024 This is lovely and a great reminder that life is so short. Love the music box analogy. The line about us not being permanent really made me think.
2. J S December 22, 2024 Powerful message

THE SWAN PEOPLE

Sometimes we drown, but we learn to breathe again through the eyes of Divine grace:

people sank

beneath the lake

sun set

on wet faces

swan swam

past and

saw

stars winking

in their places

swan’s gaze

cool and pure

like a mirror

reflects the mortal

In its eyes

there is a door

swimmers navigate

the portal

salt-caked fingers

plucking wings

make a raft

out of feathers

steering it

towards the shore

feet touch sand

rock and heathers

legs spring forth

take flight

like white wings

purity upon their faces

lake-cleansed limbs

and feathers pluming

spreading love and heaven’s graces

One Comment

1. Sarah Griffin April 22, 2025 Very nice 😀

THE TRAVELLER

What do you see when you look at me?
What do you see?
What do you know when you say you know me?
What do you know?
For I am a traveller my friend and the road that I tread
isn’t straight
And I sing my own song
As I walk along
Though there are those who tell me to wait.
Wait for whom?
And who are they?
Ah now there’s a question well asked!
For they’ll say that they’re friends
And be there to the end
But they’ll put themselves first
And me last.
So I travel instead
I survive on the bread
And in the bread I trust
I don’t carry a bag
I don’t wear any shoes
And my feet are not covered in dust.
Some say I am odd
‘Cos I’m talking with God
Ah, they live fast asleep in their dreams!
So sleepy heads
I will leave you in bed
As I rip through this world at the seams.

TREE STENCILS

Trees stenciled against the pearl-blue sky

Sway in the evening breeze

A movement of uncompromising colour

Stolen from nature’s

Palette. Threading

Branches and leaves into

The mind, like a deciduous

Montage of beauty

And light

3 Comments

1. Tia L May 13, 2025 Ooh pretty images of trees against a sky canvas 🥰Reply · Edit
2. Harry May 19, 2025 Tree stencils! Love it!Reply · Edit
3. J S May 19, 2025 Simple, short, and detailed imagery. Perfect words to describe tree patterns against clear skies. Love these poems. Keep em coming!

MICRO MOON IN SCORPIO

The moon comes with its own silence

Night’s luminous birthmark

A radiant puncture wound

To the death of day

.

A milk-bottle opening

Drenched in sunlight

The cream of a Jersey cow

Beak-pecked by the first

Sparrow of dawn

.

A mute bulb glossed in a bride’s mirth

Ringing mellifluous

A choir of untravelled song

Un-singing its tune of pearl

With the sealed lips of space

For all to not-hear but feel

.

Glowing splendour rising

In deep hush

Sleepy, bright and still

As sweeping clouds

Cobweb her face

And clear summer nights

Unstring her heart

.

A secretive glow conceals

Once every cycle

Then its power, pull, and dreaminess

Unfolds like jasmine petals in a midnight garden

3 Comments

Harry May 19, 2025 Love the idea of the moon looking like the top of a milk bottle lit by morning sun. Such a beautiful tribute to the moon. Thank you.Reply · Edit

Sarah Griffin May 12, 2025 Love this one, particularly like the first paragraph!Reply · Edit

Tia May 12, 2025 Jasmine petals in a midnight garden – how lovely 🥰Reply · Edit

A Dance of Feathers

By N. M. Sirett©

A DANCE OF FEATHERS

Birds splinter air

Appear from nowhere

The sky winks eyes

.

Wings like lashes curling

Their bulk like spitting bullets

Firing over rooftops

Before alighting on

A TV Aerial

Pronging the creatures

In a line

.

Chargrilled by sunlight –

Bird-kebabs. And beneath,

That chimney pot:

A brick pig snout

Snorting up at rectrices

.

A scattering frisson

Lifts and frays

Like aired sheets in summer sun

The pattern unweaves from blue cotton

.

And the air, the birds, the houses

All play for time

Above our street

Where boredom sinks

Into putty paving

Fixing its gaze on the ether

Forever looking sky bound

Watching

A dance of feathers

Fluttering above the grey

2 Comments

1. Tia L May 13, 2025 I really like this – can visualise the birds above the street – well written & inspiring 🤩Reply · Edit
2. Harry May 19, 2025 Bird kebabs – skewered on a TV ariel. This is great!Reply · Edit

BLACK MADONNA

I am from the Central Sun

It is far, far away

I feel its distance

Although it is right here

…

Stars wreath it: angels

With shimmering teeth

That are swords

Sharp and protective – dripping Love

…

I am from the Central Sun

I come wearing armour

Black obsidian dragon scales – triangulate my form

I wear the Universe’s map upon my skin

…

I am from the Central Sun

Which forges truth. It is the dragon’s breath

Exhaling beneath the oldest ever tree

It is my bones

Its limbs my limbs

Twisted in desert heat

Storing records

Its roots: the Keep

…

Secrets locked as time unfolds

I feel HIS warm embrace

Angels flock in echelons

Outflanking me in Grace

…

SHE whispers to me – HUSH, child. Here’s the yearned-for Silence.

I am so young

And small

And – on a grander scale – expanding

…

I come from the Central Sun

Where…

All things resonate to the power of 3

…

I spread black-crystal wings

And a furnace rages

In my belly

…

Phoenix flame is my roar

A thousand roses on the shore

In the wake of me…

2 Comments

1. Tia L May 13, 2025 Beautiful
   🤩
   Love map of Universe on skin!Reply · Edit
2. Harry May 19, 2025 This is about Sar’h or Saint Sar’h, right? The Black Madonna. I really like this.Reply · Edit

THE NEW GOD

the devil upped his game

and sent his cronies roaming

iridescent as the flame

igniting animation

and far away hence trod

o’er land and sea and mountain

.

they beckon’d to the dead

called forth to

scourge dawn’s breast

crouched in fetid graves

poised for new inception

.

sprang forth into

the world

with a freshly driven lie

and stoking eyes of fire

.

the light had altered – finespun –

bearing lurid, crooked fangs

it bit the earth in two

until it bled asunder

.

the devil upped his game

delivered all his

children and

saved his righteous flock

who feasted on the truth

then bathed their scales

in oneness

made unity their maid…

smeared goodness on their bread

.

the devil upped his game

because he is

the ‘bright one’

and shines till

kingdom come

SINGLE – WHITE – AND FEMALE

Are you happy

now

fallen from grace

fake bruise on your face

swallow your pills

synthetic heaven

a dopamine leaven

crown your glory

in the town square

people beguiled

think you play fair

you told the world

you’re pure and good

a poisoned vial beneath your hood

you siphon the venom of a snake

a toxin for your holy grail

disguised as wine

so deadly fine

to sip it is a big mistake

you strip the bonds of my family

axe its limbs

to grow your own tree

now you are me

you buried me in the cold, cold ground

spat on my grave without making a sound

you returned to a home that once was mine

where you’ll sip from your chalice

safe in your malice –

in the warmth of their hearth – and dine

Thy Kingdom Come

Thy Kingdom Come by N. M. Sirett©

THY KINGDOM COME

all of us walk as a waking dream

a morgue of thoughts

in the sun’s gold beams

and the cover of day our internal screams

–

we linger in the dead-end maze

accept each turn as our next phase

like cattle herded for the feast

food for thought: who fights the beast?

–

if the curling mist scatters and clears

clarity shines like transient tears

yet the fog hangs heavy, a dark pea soup

designed to keep you in the loop

–

so turn your eyes to the sky

the shimmering veil, so blue, so high

cast clouds as shapes and symbols true

what do they really mean to you?

–

for we, not knowing who we are or where we’ve been

footslog like slaves to the living stream

wade in deep, catch the current’s flow

‘It is what it is!’ you say – you know?

–

the river takes us through the days

to the inevitable confluence of tides and waves

a winding sinew to the ocean’s gate

a static obedience to a beguiling fate

–

and all the while I pound on the wall

hoping you will hear my call…

–

Wake up! Wake up!

shed your galosh

Listen! Listen!

Earth is awash!

don’t try to survive yet another flood

don’t give them any more of your precious blood

you who are Sovereign belong not in the sea

wake up, oh wake up, remember you’re free!

do not succumb to the ebb and the flow

for the river’s a lie – not the true way to go

turn around and ask: ‘Where is home?’ – the answer?

–

home is heart-centred

the Source of your Love

home is the peace of a white-feathered dove

it is not wrapped in guilt

it won’t make you atone

nor an endless road that you walk alone

it is not a bright light filled with purpose and lessons

you won’t find it in callings or benevolent missions

–

home whispers humbly

it’s the call of your being

home is the song you’ve forgotten to sing

home is the knowing that you are the One

home is remembering –

Thy Kingdom Come

It is done

By N. M. Sirett©

SERENDIPITY

You stand at the ingress of my heart

And I yours

Those adjoining doors

Lead to worlds sublime

That only in the blink of time

Can align

Or otherwise remain unlocked

Keys buried like treasure

For others – not so worthy of

Being their keepers – to find.

Our threshold-crossing carved

In a tree-trunk – deep

A signature of love

Not yet known

But, in all possibility,

Could be

Rare as gold

Pure like the rose

2 Comments

Sarah Griffin September 8, 2025 Lovely! Love the word serendipity!

Tia September 4, 2025 Beautiful 🤩