The Season's Edge | #CapturedInWords

I breathe urban petrichor and honeysuckle heaviness,

Look to a sky drawing its heels across cement grey 

Where gold burning rings rim the floss-soft sweetness

And mark how we are the storm's ledge, toeing the season's edge.

A Blackbird | #CapturedInWords

Past the garden gate  The jagged silhouette of a pipe Puffs soft chugs of steam That curl like the smoke From a trembling cigar...

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The Ink Tide | #CapturedInWords

  Last night I dreamt that you and I were swept away on a silent, deaf tide.  You, stricken, lit by the moon. I, in darkness, unheard...

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Tea Haiku | #CapturedInWords

Your morning memory  blooms in a huff of tea-steam;  soft, distorted and, rising, gone. The touch of sun...

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The Accordion Man | #CapturedInWords

The sky over the park is framed by naked trees standing stark to attention, upturned, as if a black network of nerves has taken root...

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A Walk in Barcelona #3

Who's changed? You or I? Of course, it's both of us - my skeleton as usual, your frame, the same but of truly ourselves? The li...

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A Walk in Barcelona #2

Even if I lived in Barcelona for the rest of my life, I'd spend those days revered as a guiri; a tourist. Prejudice sticks to me like...

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A Walk in Barcelona #1

When I arrived in Barcelona, I was greeted by an almighty twilight thunderstorm. I had forgotten how very loud you ...

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A Weekend Walk #8

While living in London has its merits, it'll never be for me. I'm a small city or country girl at heart. You know, where ev...

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Weekend Walk #6

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London: A Society Beyond Borders

Just before I moved to London, someone told me “ It will get to you and it will change you .” They told me about the cold and mean peo...

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Barcelona- City Ghosts

I love city ghosts.  Faintly feathering about their shimmering way, slipping through doorways, turning street corners, shuddering in re...

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Barcelona- A Dark Love Story

I hadn't planned to see you but knew that at some point, I would be drawn in your direction by an irresistible lull; the force of habit...

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Barcelona - This City Was Never Ours

When travelling, you can navigate by map and itinerary or choose to just walk and see and it is often that I take the latter, winding mysel...

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The Jewels of Rosie Criddle

I’m the sentimental one in my family, clinging to nostalgia like a forgotten scent dancing anew on the nostrils; a sashaying, shim...

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What the Blackbird Said

I remember a day. It was April, where I was dreaming on my bed, looking out to a sky that was neither cold nor warm, but soft-washed pi...

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Under Our See

I remember the day I discovered the lull of the tide. We were standing there, my father and I, in the late afternoon at the water's e...

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Dear Celia

Dear Celia, Truthfully, I know not where to start this letter, which I feel as I have been writing for ten long years. I cannot recall ...

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