Bereaved mother, writing it all down
I couldn’t find a feather, there’s never one when you need one. You can’t plan these things, or know where to look. They are not like conkers or pine cones. Feathers find you, carried on the breeze in search of a new home. People tell me that they are messages from the other side, sent … Read more
MY POOR FEET This was written as part of the Winter Writing Sanctuary . The course consists of a ‘Daily Spark’ in which Beth reads some poetry aloud, and then a writing prompt. This day’s prompt was to stand in the garden in bare feet. The Daily Spark – new plan. I’m listening to the … Read more