The way

It's been a funny old week.

A week when we had rain of Biblical proportions...

and yet  in the next moment we sat,

our shoulders  dappled in golden sunshine.

The longest day came.

and left.

I sat in our living room bathed in it's violet light

not wanting it to leave.

Ever.

This heart became an open door.

Through the door came the beauty,

once again.

Movies and books that made me cry with joy.
Maria Callas singing me to sleep.
O mio Babbino caro
( Oh my beloved father)
Thinking of my dad and how much I still miss him.
His smile, his love for me.
The ache never ends.
He always helped me to find poetry in the dark.

Even though it's morning here,
a candle beside my bed is burning.
I watch it and think about the way time passes.
I've loved strong and hard .

The feel of my leather satchel that I carry to work every day.
The colours
red
indigo
slate gray
robin egg blue
Paper, waiting expectantly for me to soak it
with words.
A new rich, dark roast coffee I've never tried before.
The movie about the pilgrimage that I would love to take
but can't .

Nothing stops me walking it in my heart.

Come wind and stars.

Make my skirt billow.


Reading Fifty shades of grey

Drinking Taylors of Harrogate rich roast

Listening to 8tracks

Dreaming of our road trip in three weeks time

I hope you are well dears,

and seeing the beauty in all of your days