Thursday, 29 November 2018


Reach Out
Where are you?
There was a time when
I knew where to find you,
knew the places and spaces
you inhabited
in my dreams,
in my day
and night
dreams.
You would be waiting there,
waiting to be found,
waiting to come
to me.
Now
it's harder to find you,
to recognise your shape and form.
You are becoming fragmented and ephemeral,
floating forms in a damp mist.
Reach out.
Hold on
to me.
Don't pass me by.
It's such a long time since you left,
perhaps it's me who's letting go,
me who has forgotten how to reach you.
Forgotten to reach out to you.
Reach out.
Hold on
to me.
Don't let me fade
away.
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1wsIYp5VC0gGkc0H3dXTQ9-73ufvynpRS/view

Sunday, 25 November 2018

Raindrops

Just raindrops
falling,
falling,
falling into wetness
running down
the glass.
Just raindrops falling,
like silvery teardrops
from glassy eyes,
teardrops
which will run their course
and splatter
splatter like rain,
then disappear.
Disappear
into wetness,
and become invisible
as if by magic.

https://thelightekphrastic.com/november-2018-issue-36/richmond-white-november-

Friday, 23 November 2018


The Shadows of Secrets
Secrets always lie in the shadows,
the dark spaces
where they can hide
undiscovered.
Until
a light shines through,
a dark drawer is unlocked,
a letter freed once more from it’s cover,
the missing piece of the puzzle
is found when the dust
is disturbed.
And what then?
Then,
when the secrets lie exposed
to the light.
What then?
Then,
when
the secrets create a new shadow
even darker than before.

Wednesday, 21 November 2018

Black Cats

I’m puzzled.
You can see it in my face, can’t you?
Traditionally, black cats were lucky,
especially if they could be persuaded to
cross your path.
Now they’re unlucky.
No one wants them,
not even to cross their path.
So, you can see why I’m curious
as I wonder what happened
to bring about this change.
Did they, ever catlike,
decide not to co-operate
with the path crossing business
and turn tail to scarper
in the opposite direction?
Or maybe stand their ground
and snarl
and spit
and bare their teeth
like fearsome demons.
Perhaps that was it
or perhaps it must always
remain a puzzle,
a curiosity.

https://eventhorizonmagazine.com/



Tuesday, 20 November 2018

Sweet Heart

He’d seen it glint earlier
when a shaft of light hit
the open box.
He kept watch till they left.
Back now, still watchful.
Turn his head this way,
then that.
No cats.
No humans.
Upturned the box
and seized his prize
glinting gold among the dull
browns and creams.
Carried it off.
Then carried it home,
a home now fit for his new lover,
his sweet heart.
But he didn’t unwrap it.
Didn’t discover the greater prize
lying under the surface glitter.
Didn’t find the jewel
of sweetness in the centre.
Soon life dulled the surface glitter,
screwed it up.
And the sweet heart
melted in the warmth,
Melted into sticky goo.
Melted away as
sweet hearts do.

http://nowthenmagazine.com/manchester/issue-60/word-life/

Thursday, 15 November 2018


Waterfall

They put a fence by the waterfall
all along the high bank near the path.
It was ugly,
an eyesore
but it was supposed to make it safer
stop people climbing up the rocks at it’s side
and jumping in
though no one could remember an accident.
It didn’t work.
The children went under.
The adults went over.
It was more dangerous
as the approach was much narrower now
and slippery from the increased footfall 
on the restricted area.
But at least 
there was no accident
it was just ugly
an eyesore
until
someone took a saw to it
and threw the bits
into the water
to float away
down river.
They built it higher then
a bigger eyesore
and difficult for children
to climb over.
But they still do.
After all they’ve been doing it for centuries.
It’s probably in their genes
and no one can remember an accident.

https://www.praxismagonline.com/waterfall-lynn-white/





PRAXISMAGONLINE.COM
Waterfall They put a fence by the waterfall all along the high bank near the path. It was ugly, an eyesore but it was supposed to make it safer…

Wednesday, 14 November 2018


The Fishermen
The wall ran all along one side of the bay,
steps up from the port at one end,
down to the beach at the other.
I climbed up the steps
and looked over.
So many fish.
Huge fish.
Swirling silver moons in a day blue sky.
A net would have scooped them up
and broken with the weight.
The fishermen were there with their rods set up,
like the fish almost touching,
so many and so close,
making
parallel black lines against the sky
like a blue print for lunch provision.
I walked down the steps to the beach.
Few people were there so early.
Morning was the fisherman’s time
of day,
not the sunbather’s.
I went back along the wall
when the fishermen were packing up,
heading home for lunch.
Carrying their fish,
I thought.
But no,
it was a delusion
to imagine
they would eat fish for dinner.
Not those fish, anyway.
All were returned to the sea.
Such is the sport of the fisherman.

Monday, 12 November 2018

Only Dream Harder

If you dream hard enough
you’ll find castles in the air,
or build them.
If you dream hard enough
you’ll find secret cities
under the waves
ruled over by a fishy king
with his beady eye on you
as you walk on by.
If you dream hard enough
you’ll find unicorns
and ride them across the desert
to discover lost oases hidden there
amongst ancient cities
once in ruins
now recast
in shimmering perfection
by harsh sunlight.
If you dreamer harder
you’ll rise above the waves of sand
which threaten to engulf you,
float in the sunlight
instead of being buried
head first.
It’s all possible
if you only dream harder.



Wednesday, 7 November 2018


Blow It Away
I’m thinking
that every grain of sand
represents some part
of my life
as I lie wet on my towel.
I’m thinking
that every speck
has some meaning,
some significance
for me.
And now
I’ve shaken them up
to dry them off
and
I’m watching them float away.
Float away
likes motes in the sunshine
leaving me
ready to begin again
with a clean towel.
https://blognostics.net/blognostics-an-innovative-experience-in-literature-poetry-and-art/2018/03/30/blow-it-away-by-lynn-white/

BLOGNOSTICS.NET
Blow It Away by Lynn White I’m thinking that every grain of sand represents some part of my life....READ MORE

Friday, 2 November 2018

http://www.lulu.com/shop/peach-velvet-mag/the-poets-tarot/paperback/product-23855640.html

https://veronicamattaboni.wixsite.com/peachvelvet/fall-18

Thursday, 1 November 2018


I was Always Afraid Of Rabbits
“I was always afraid of rabbits”
said the purple dragon.
I knew it to be true.
I’d known him for a long time,
long before I became a witch
and took to the water
to watch over him.
It’s the white ones he fears most
and they are mostly white ones
down here.
He won’t eat them.
He used to eat fish
but now he is afraid to eat them
now he’s seen them eating the rabbits.
They’ve eaten the fur off this one,
but he believes it was white
and believing is seeing
after all.
The fish have eaten everything
except for the head and eyes
the most fearsome parts
for the purple dragon.
It’s found him now,
he pushes it away in panic
but it won’t go,
it won’t go.
It’s covering his face,
taking it over
and getting ready
for the rest.
It won’t go,
not unless I can grasp it,
and hold it
peel it off
take it away,
then bewitch them both.