Voices in a Late Summer Garden

Honeysuckle paints a pale sunset along the garden wall, a tumbling clown, with its tendrils dangling down. Above the constant buzz of pollen-coated bees, I catch a cockeyed conversation. ­                    ‘Get down, you silly girl, you’ll get stuck! ­                  […]

Silver Anniversary

Time is a constant artist: a sculptor tracing years on skin from the moment we began; an artist reflecting colours of spring, summer and autumn; a playwright feeding us our lines; a novelist unfolding chapters in our book. Now we have time to pause and marvel at the winter sun composing poetry in our garden. […]


This January morning is frost-crisp, wisps of cloud streak the sky, my boots scrape and tinkle gravel where the field rumples, crumples like a fresh white cover over storm-tossed limbs, frozen furrows, hedgerows, overgrown and winter-scented. Tormented by tingling fingers and toes, nose numb and coat buttons come undone, I greet the early magpie, high […]

Winter Miracle

Originally posted on writing in north norfolk:
on days white with snow we become children again catching flakes on tongues Kim M. Russell, 2017 Image found on Pinterest My response to Carpe Diem #1321 miracles In a new episode the quote to inspire us has been taken from Paulo Coelho’s novel The Zahir: “The great…

Modigliani Moods

Pavement cafés scatter cobbles of Montmartre. Whores step over ditches, become painted queens. He flings his cape, adjusts his scarf, picks his way through muddy lanes and creaking, swaying studios of the Bateau Lavoir – and dreams of dancing naked with sloe-eyed models under stars. Kim M. Russell, 2017   My second response to Thotpurge’s […]


no church bell no alarm bell just the body clock warning and a stormy morning outside the window later, the man on the radio says the Nobel prize for literature has been awarded to Kazuo Ishiguro, whose stories will never let me go unconsoled in the pale view of hills, an artist of the floating […]