Harsh – Rough – Demanding. That’s our idea of reality, apart from transition, but what is it in truth?
Not quite getting enough of self-mastery – or mastering the self, willing one’s own will, for the lack of contrary argument. As it happens, a book crossed my path.Initially just digital, and with a new interest being bookbinding, this non-physical …
Diese Angst treibt sich umGreift umKaum noch mich atmen lassen Take care of thyself. Though art a poet! From flurry to field – home to a group of sheep unsuspected of any crimes as yet not committedat a time when …
A clear hooray on the subtle, new look of my site, and despite that I could go on cheering myself on in the mirror – for what words are reflection – my mind had pondered a more unobtrusive, ethical problem …
Now they have certainly lost it. What is it? Not only Stephen King fans are right to wonder at a glance. An official version by not so official sources justifies the decision as a ‘crackdown on food labels’: the word …
‘Why do you still bother listening to the rats in the attic, my dear? They do nothing else than chew on cardboard or old shoes’, but what she really wanted to know, what a life this may be, munching on …
Inscribed on stone for ever lasting certainty, for what cannot be erased in their eyes against the spells and evil.Who would have thought, people felt a need to hide their chants against witches in a cave. Fighting the dark within …
Casually spring awakens, with a gentle burst of buds and bird song; a woodpecker to be more precise, each morning around eight, long after the smaller birds had their breakfast and left notes on the doorstep to their feeder.It is …
Spoken of a new day, a Sunday whether there is light or dark, falling into a world well beyond our day-to-day love for routine.After ten, people don’t go to church anymore, instead they gather in small groups of four or …
The light from a sickle moon is drawn into a downstairs room.From the outside, to the sublime to the sacred. The cracking of the radiators already gone for hours, and yet one could swear to hear a whisper in the …
There’s good reason why in the last years my only glass of whiskey in the year slips down my throat for Christmas. The many inane conversations on politics and social morality only get so far over the rest of the …
![The Rise [& Fall] of the Escribitionist](https://ladyofpoetry.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/06/Escribitionist.jpg)
