Tag: grief
-
The Flames of Death
It was beautiful, the newly shooting buds of ancient trees, those toppled by the terrible storms defiantly greening, At our feet the carpet of pungent garlic holding its buds as precious gifts to a foraging folk and here and there stars of anemones shining in the dim lit ancient path. == We trod on round…
-
My Winter in Summer
I heard the crunch of tyres on the stony ground still, as it stopped on the grassy verge and outpoured chattering children and gathering grownups. Nearby the yapping of a small dog, running freely amongst the cars disturbing someones quiet moments, and threatening to knock over the frail taking a walk in the afternoon sunshine…
-
Then, Now and Tomorrow
I sat beneath the boughs of a tree, once, and watched the crowds go by. Dressed warmly against the cold, bright coloured scarves, boots and shoes, and even sand- als displayed beneath shorts of a wry hard man, displaying his hairy legs and muscles against the hoar, raw frosts on the brown, bare, sleeping,…
-
A Moment of Grace
For a moment it blazed across the sky, deep rubies, amethyst and gold as the sun sank below the sea leaving me. I looked and saw through the colours into a lit space where all was possible beyond imagining, For a moment time stopped. Then the sun sank and darkness collected around me – yet…
-
2020 Slaughter
Timeless memories of days that mould our families, and friends come round for a coffee and a chat. While, the insistent echoes of government tell us what they want us to hear and what they wilfully want to do. And ——————————- so many hugless months have slowly palled and painted faces with sadness and tears…
-
Death Ripped Him from Her.
The jagged edges of his death cut through her heart, tearing it out and displaying it for all to see. She looked at it forcing the blood around her body hating it for keeping her alive when he had gone. ——————- Texting messages that showed hope, when she knew the the white…
-
Death
The impact of death. I cook something tasty most nights, he said, Treats and trials and she sits on my shoulder and tells me ‘You batty bugger!’ You should have chopped and fried til they are soft, and he goes on lightly listening to her cheery censorship which was absent in the old life, but…