Dragon Thaw

The winter stretched like Ouroboran tail,

Thus, the rider sought the dragon

Iron Scale beneath her bridge

“we need your breath of fire

For life to prevail,”

The rider said.

One roar,

Spring.

Candles & Questions

One of two poems:

we lit candles after

their names and tales on our ears

flames flickering, like souls.

#FreeForm Friday Round up and Prompt

  Hello all, Below is the wonderful round-up of last week’s #FreeFormFriday prompt, exploring the art of free form and combined form. Many thanks to contributors. Apologies for being slightly delayed today, life overtook events. From now on I’ll be running this fortnightly. If you would like to join in I’d love to hear from…

Love & Hate

Hate; a verb, an abstract noun

That we may give our power,

Love; a verb, an abstract noun

That is hate’s funeral pyre.

In black and white

You may not see our battle scars,

but know this; we are not victims

we are this world’s warriors.

Heart

cardiology; ‘an abnormality of the functioning of the autonomic (involuntary) nervous system,’ another one; a condition common with my co-morbidities, nothing I’d not guessed we already do much of what they say I should, I laugh during the tests; “Don’t get up too fast,” he says smiling knowingly – as if I could, and we…

The Unanswerable (#VJWC)

My favourite quotes have long included “Do not fear death, fear the inadequate life.” Long the unanswerable question that lurks on the edges started roaring loudly.

Once in Tranquil Calm (#writephoto)

Where I was once in tranquil calm

Amid the greens, where waters flow

In long-lost summers’ timeless balm,

In soft repose, so long ago …

Stars Given To The Moon (a poem for Women’s Day)

  First, Majesty made sun and moon Equal luminaries, a sky to crown, Legend says Majesty spoke with the moon Who said no two could wear one crown, Majesty, some say, decreased the moon, The sun, it seemed, was left to wear the crown,   Majesty, tales say, ministered to the moon By giving her…

Sub Rosa

  In those tangled threads of gold she has conceived a key, in stories long since told, in the electric codes of cities,   sub rosa, wrapped in ribbons, she stands by St. Pauls dome, hers the more secret realms of inner wisdom and imagination for she is our unknown.   Antonia Sara Zenkevitch With…