Divina Poetica


Spill your words onto my lips,

Those soft, silky, satin drips

That caress my soul

Like your fingertips,

As across my skin

Your voice slips

And tangles in strips

Where light and fire can’t eclipse

The body divine in apocalypse.


*What can I say? Muse-kissed today. 


I will stand strong

I will stand strong

Using the prompt from OctPoWriMo, and a challenge from my dear friend, Hastywords – there are layers of meaning here, even if the poetry is micro. I tend to be the kind to get alongside people in their battles, and I can’t stand by and see a friend hurting. I will be THERE, cheering them on, doing my best to support and assist in any way I can. I find other people’s demons much easier to battle than my own.



Behold – the tree of words

Background: We wanted to do something different as Christmas presents one year, so I wrote this, and we put it with watercolour paintings of trees, in frames, and gave them to our nearest and dearest. Since then I’ve had more fun making images with poetry (did it today, in fact) and LOVE the versatility and cross-over of using the words to physically create the picture.