Tag Archives: poem

Singing: Now Sleeps The Crimson Petal, Now The White (from the movie Vanity Fair)


This is the best recording I can get of this lovely song by Mychael Danna from the 2004 film version of Thackeray’s Vanity Fair, with Reese Witherspoon in the female lead (Becky Sharp).

The lyrics are from the sonnet by Alfred Lord Tennyson Now Sleeps the Crimson Petal Now the White Continue reading

Posted in Music, Romanticism, Singing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Friday Fictioneers 100 Word Flash Fiction Story: Bloodtide Sunday


Every Friday writers worldwide gather round the virtual fireside of Rochelle Wisoff and share stories of 100 words, prompted by a common photograph, and exchange constructive criticism. You don’t have to write to read. Click on the blue frog at … Continue reading

Posted in Short Story Writing, Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | 28 Comments

Friday Fictioneers 100 Word Flash Fiction Challenge: Nabat


Nabat

I looked back, sin
more comfortable
safer than flight.

I should have soared away.
Zoar was not far
but sin was nearer.

I was cosy with sin –
a warm nest. Continue reading

Posted in Christian writing, Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | 17 Comments

Friday Fictioneers: The Bunting


The Bunting

The sun-bleached bunting rustles, brittle
as the bell of the abandoned village church.
Then, it recoiled rustling from the black-frocked
village tongues congregated to snip and snipe,
hang the flayed red tongues in honour
of the day of the saint. Continue reading

Posted in Short Story Writing, Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 23 Comments

NaBloPoMoXXVII: Time to Move On


time to move on
leave another murdering
herd, unsheepishly, unconforming
– I don’t strike
back, just because
I am struck just because
mud makes me curious Continue reading

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NaBloMo XXI: ecO mantra


ecO mantra Continue reading

Posted in Art, Ecology, Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

The Voice in the Wind


The Voice in the Wind I A muffled parcel of oak and birch, beech and I, drawn here for refuge. Brittle as bells, leaves peal out – a round – wind-wrung, each peal an end and a start. A silence … Continue reading

Posted in Writing | Tagged , , | 2 Comments