Long ago, a goblin lived beneath a willow, where daylight was green, and leaves rustled in the breeze. His name was Willow – Will for short. He was friends with a magpie that landed on the topmost branch each day to share gossip. One day, as Will watched a robin build a nest, the tree […]
Tag: Writers’ Pantry
A Moment
I took a real moment, not a virtual corona one, to step out into the garden, under cover of the darkest night. White noise and rustle of leaves – the only human sound was the distant hum of tyre on tarmac, a delivery truck perhaps. It was quiet and so dark I could not see […]
Nature Haiku to Ease the Pain
errant porpoises trapped inside the harbour wall the sun’s a beachball call of the harbour nets strung between the boatsheds sparkling with sea salt avalanche of fish tumbling down the harbour wall no more plastic bags Kim M. Russell, 17th April 2020 My response to Imaginary Garden with Real Toads NaPoWriMo Day 17 Play it […]
Sullen
After countless years and so many sullen stars, we yearn for sparkling seas, fast running rivers, snowy mountain tops and vast green plains on our home planet beyond the moon. We have longed to escape the monotones of this metal box: utilitarian grey and brown, the tasteless sustenance, our heads blown by shifting body fluids, […]
Lips
I was never one for painting my lips red, although I sometimes fantasised in bed about a scarlet slash against white teeth tempting you to meld our lips and breath, a colourful seduction in a bed gone quiet. But then I realised that instead of a riot of thrashing limbs and pounding chests we both […]
Restricted View
From the window and in the confines of the garden, I watch spring advance. Willow buds and almost-blossoms dance on the breeze, promising abundance yet to come. High above in the heavens are black smudges of distant ravens, harbingers let loose among vernal festivities. Stuck alone within these walls, but blessed with flowers, hedgerows and […]
Mothering Sunday
I left the laptop, just for a minute or two, to let the cats out and make the first cup of tea of this morning. I looked out at the sunshine, perky daffodils and drooping snowdrops gathered at the end of the garden, smiled to myself, and then, from the laptop’s scrolling photo display, a […]
The One Who Does Not Go Straight Home
I am the hare who does not go straight home. I relish the cool dew on my whiskers, the wind in ears and scut. Dawn steals past the farmer’s gate and I follow in its honeyed wake, zig-zagging fields, up and down hills, among the yellow daffodils, too full of giddiness to go straight home […]
Nothing Short of Dismal
Everything is packed up ready to leave for the last time on a dark and dismal February day as the spring tide roars on the other side of the dunes waiting to devour the coast the fields the villages drown the towns and rampage in the cities and you say “Let’s go to the pub […]
Strange things happen at sea
The walk along the beach that Sunday was wild. The wind racing across the sand was fast and powerful, blowing bubbles of foam into the dunes and sand into hair and eyes. The tall dark-haired woman in the Fair-isle hat bent down to stroke the terrier at her feet and lifted a stone from a […]
writing in north norfolk 