below this old house
the valley quietly sleeps
a distant dove calls
below this old house
the valley quietly sleeps
a distant dove calls
time moving slowly
watching the lichens growing
on a country wall
parked in a layby
the rustling of autumn leaves
that old copper beech
2 January, 2022
popularity
weak and shameless masquerade
the bare-faced unmasqued
2 January, 2022
my sister-in-law
a dervish preparing food
on family days
1 January, 2022
home from Italy
prone on the floor, my brother
bonding with our dog
1 January, 2022
ever thankful for
those mellow days when the air
itself breathes of love
January 1, 2022
this feeling of calm
I could sit here forever
in the morning light
1 January 2022
where did it come from
this butterfly in my room
‘twixt last year and this
1 January 2022
how quiet it is
the gentlest of breezes stirs
the most slender twigs
January 1, 2022
I dream so I write ..
“Wings are an illusive notion. Some may possess them, but they are not very visible, and as for me, there isn’t the least sign of a feather.” -Amy Carmichael
New Ideas, New Forms
Musings from an insignificant writer
14 hectares of thrills, spills and fun!
A Journal of Poetic Observations
Pictures and Poetry, Picture Poetry
My Journey on the Lonely Road to Deaf Acceptance
Ellen Grace Olinger