Savy Poem – Burnt Ice

As cold as cold, as hot as hot, shivering through and through, her skin burns to ice. Frostbitten and scorched, she rehatches.     Copyright owned by Jay Cool Image by Tania Van den Berghen from Pixabay Silly Poem – Didn’t Silly Poem – Conwy Savvy Poem – Worthlessness        

Savvy Poem – Shrivelled

I shake off the lines that led me to this point, and, in the aftermath, I feel the smoothness of the surface of myself, whilst considering whether I really know where the point is. Is it at the sharp tip of my artist’s B pencil? Is it at the tip of my Hubby’s Roman beak?…

Just Time

  Just time. Just time in which to write. To write about having six minutes left. Six minutes left to write about something before midnight. Midnight or midlife, for me, the day is still young enough to take more of what I have to give to it – more of my thoughts about what it…

Chilled in Chilton

Stall. Sigh. Stop. My carriage makes it back – just! With the third sprog now delivered to her safe and snug school, it’s mum time. Time to chill. A Lenovo laptop? Ancestry.com? But, before I’ve even entered my sacred password, I recall that, although child-free, I am still on mum-duty. I have a sprog request…