Out of darkness

A child develops in darkness. Entombed in the womb. Cushioned and cradled within its comfortable confines. They grow toward the day when they will emerge, blinking, into the light. Stretch tenuous fingers toward all that awaits to embrace them. At a point in time they will draw in air, breathe independently and become a living,…

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A labour of love

I watch the Philosopher move rhythmically with his sleeves rolled up, hands kneading dough with practised movements, swaying and singing loud (considerately wearing his headphones due to my M.E hypersensitive hearing) as he listens to Dragonforce’s ‘Sonic Firestorm’ album. Faint whispers reach me of ‘My spirit will go on’ and ‘Fury of the storm’ blasting his…

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Continuation

Hi, Welcome. I won’t keep you long. It’s true I love to chat – as those who have read previous posts or follow me on Twitter can attest. My prose and poetry seem to have grown exponentially longer as my confidence in sharing them has grown too. Whoops! Verbosity is probably my middle name. And it’s just…

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