The penultimate stave of The Wild Swans

Stave 8 Startled by an echo in the mountains, Barking dogs, hunting horns and guns, Elisa ran inside the cave and tied the nettles she had spun Into a bundle, upon which she sat down. The hunting hounds had sniffed her out, Leaping and barking all about. They were joined by hunters in a ring, […]

Cold Tea at the Tate Modern

I saw Jane Dougherty’s post and had to join in with Sonya’s Three Line Tales!   Her Earl Grey was tepid and the view of St Paul’s left her cold. Why was she waiting here? What couldn’t wait to be told? ‘Hello, Mum,’ he said. ‘Because of this exhibition all my other paintings have been […]