Source: Unexpected acquaintances….
Tread carefully this Halloween Among the ghosts that can’t be seen. Avoid mirrors, attics and empty rooms, Graveyards, woods and lonely tombs. Beware of forms without a shadow, Howls and laughter that rings hollow. Listen for bells that do not ring And ghostly choirs that silently sing. If you ensure your tread is light, You […]
Last night we took a supernatural train ride along the North Norfolk coast, accompanied by a motley crew of weird characters and tellers of ghost stories. We arrived at Sheringham station car park to find it haunted by fellow travellers disguised as scary monsters and super creeps. On the dimly lit platform, members of the […]
In a village in South Norfolk, Situated on the Broads, There is an ancient hawthorn With misshapen gnarled boughs. She is the Witch of Hethel, Adorned with mistletoe, In spring with haws and flowers, In winter trimmed with snow. A thirteenth century boundary tree, Her fragrance is not sweet: Herbal larder for the witches And […]
He Went to War His arm was blown off in World War One; When he came home, a one-armed man, The government replaced his gun With a knife-cum-fork And the equivalent Of two pounds a week. He told of boys in the trenches, So terrified they would crawl Around older men’s ankles, Only to see […]
I decided to join Rebeca from Books and Messy Buns this Random Friday. My random sentence is: “I ran out of my root and into the kindle.” – page 140, Sophie Someone by Hayley Long
Coal-black on a cold night That bursts with light Holes in outer space The black look on a face Ravens and crows Mourning widows Funereal black Starless black Bible black Velvet, silk and jet The magic of a black cat The inkiness of a handwritten poem Image found on logopond.com
My husband and I are going on a ghost train ride. Not one of those funfair rides that last a few minutes. It’s an hour on a steam train on the Poppy Line – a special Halloween ride through the North Norfolk countryside – and I am so looking forward to it. I will try […]
Gusts of wind in my face, Tears of rain on my hair, Mist lingers on the river, Wood-smoke hangs in the air, A bitter-sweet season That smells of despair. I sit by the riverbank Where the trees turn to rust, Through tangles of grass Bony weeds thrust: Seasonal refugees, Gold turns to dust.
Lunar Light The moon ripped a hole in the cloud To let its light seep through Exposing the night sky The dazzling aura Of Lady Luna In shades of silver and blue