Words
Liz glanced out of the steamed up coach window and thought the day couldn’t possibly be more miserable. The heavens had opened the minute they had pulled up outside Sudbury Hall and she was reluctant to reach for her long overcoat and woolly hat that fitted over her ears like a bonnet. It seemed … Continue reading Pride & Prejudice (Alternative)
As she looked out over the sunlit bay from her window she was reminded of faraway shores, the soft ripple of a breeze over gently crashing waves, wine chilled, condensation running like tiny rivers down the curved body of the bottle. They were sat looking out across the bay, sipping their favourite wine and life … Continue reading Waiting for Rita
This looks really interesting, in terms of subject matter: https://www.itsflush.com/post/a-tour-of-london-s-crossness-pumping-station For great pictures…and an unusual day out.
When March cameIt whispered, let’s do it againAnd with spring in the airBoy, did we dareIt blossomed once morePink petals on the floorLike the confetti that scatteredIn the years we were shatteredBut it bloomed with the sunWarmth brought back the fun
Your spirit died in ecstasy & that, my love, was my legacy, for although your soul runs empty, your will is full of plenty, the attic lies full of memory, in your imagination’s cemetery, come, come with me, the ghost of all you could be. https://videopress.com/v/3um5Bvhc?resizeToParent=true&cover=true&preloadContent=metadata&useAverageColor=true
The ambience of the autumn morning, the golden blush of misty dawning, the quiet stretch of idle yawning, the gentle purr of the kitten pawing, the delicious depth of coffee pouring, the aroma soaring, sitting quietly under the garden awning.
Yes to all that, to the moon & back, for my forever friend, with no beginning & end, yes to all the bad times & the sparking love and hate crimes, the romance fraud that I applaud, I say yes to that all coming back, the fire & verse that I now lack, it’s never … Continue reading Yes
The years and years of souvenirs, the memory’s lapse of time’s collapse,the remember whens and let’s pretends, postcards, fridge magnets, tea towel gems, pictures framed in paper lens, flowers pressed between poetry pages, the little reminders of love through the ages.
They say it’s where the heart lives, but home is just the wreckage, of all the life you danced with, doors closed on all the courage, loft full of all the baggage, fate sealed in windows blinded, kitchen neat & tidied, sink full of dirty dishes hiding, four walls a prison crying.
I am pre-lovedFrayed at the edgesA worn gloveAncient 70s wedges I’m on the shelfSecond hand merchCheaper than wealthYour vintage search You’ll remember meAnd all that I amWhen everything was freeAnd life was quite glam Step back in timeAll was not lostI’m in my primeNow I’m low cost Poetry Gal
I woreThat dressThe oneI keptFor best The silkAnd laceThat justSwoonedWith grace The soft& slowTying ofTheBow I sayAmenFor thatTailoredHem I knowI can slipRight outOf thatZip My favouriteDress codeScreamsA laMode The beautyI cossetHangsIn the back of myCloset
She was an avid reader from an early age and wrote her first book when she was eight. Born in Scotland, she settled in the middle of it all and travelled widely. She worked all her life, transferring her love of communication to her professional life where she perfected the art of communications, utilising her … Continue reading My Obituary
Mags Winthrop Blog 