Eliza Daley ~ Wordcraft & Musing on Home & Hope
Silence was met with mostly silence. This is not unexpected. However there was more interest than I would have expected for a new thing, enough of it positive that I shall keep going. Stefanie, author of A Stone in the River, threw this up there: We think of silence as the absence of sound. But… Continue reading The Wednesday Word
I’ve thought of something I can do with Wednesdays! I participate in various prompts and puzzles on Twitter. I find it helps to keep an old mind limber, being forced to think and create using some idea that is not native to my brain. It forces new perspective. It’s also great fun. And it is… Continue reading The Wednesday Word
oh yes you — just once i’ve wanted to flow as i am just once because i get lost in my own creation i wish you could join me always alone in my corner you — it’s so odd, but i was right i am truly insane because i arrive at the same conclusions and… Continue reading Solitary
I'm still absorbed in nesting... and nursing my abused hands... because rheumatoid arthritis does not do curtain hardware in rock maple without intense retribution. So here is a bit of poetry... of sorts. free from words solitary is alone. alone is one. solitary is one. but one is not necessarily solitary. i often wish i… Continue reading Poetry
the hawthorn queen she waxes full in fertile grace queen of quick and fay, she reigns in mantle green and seemly face quelling fear and mortal pains eternal mother, ever maid undying wisdom in her glance deathless wierd is on her laid to spin th' unceasing wheel of chance again, she comes in crown of… Continue reading May Day
A few romantic poems for Floralia. Well, sort of romantic at any rate.
A bit of desert dragon poetry for the last Tuesday in April. Because it seems a dragonish sort of time.
Cronus and the Omphalos stone, Athenian red-figure pelike C5th B.C.(Metropolitan Museum of Art) the monster the greatest god the father generating heirs but swallowing his challengers his children he is entrenched and the battle lines won’t move oh, just never but the future revolution, revelation is in conspiracy the young ones are thinking action will… Continue reading sa tourne
i think i think o’er much and thought thought engenders til sense be subject to this neural breeding i know i know not what yet knowing knowledge renders thoughts of thought and yet to thought unheeding i feel i feel a’right though feelings feeling tenders and yet such feelings, too on thoughts are feeding i… Continue reading Absurdism
Raven at the river’s edge calls imperiously. She takes the rich; so, too, the poor, but she’ll not be having me. Empty-handed naked souls from all life’s trials free. To her they come in humble throng, but she’ll not be having me. Hoary heads and blooming cheeks, they bow obediently. She sends them all to… Continue reading Murky Poetry
