I brought my own brushes tonight I have my favourites I like to use now Me too as well! I keep returning To the same brushes when I paint Oh I'm sorry! Are they your brushes? No mine are here... Continue Reading →
An acrostic poem to celebrate my first time with OctPoWriMo Many words, this month, have left my pen Yattering and battering from head to page Striving to create, learning to grow Teaching new forms and ways. Every day has been... Continue Reading →
He loved her hair when he saw her first Her back was turned to him He courted her with books And comparing reading lists She wrote love poems for him Which she kept hidden Until a friend convinced her One... Continue Reading →
This is my own painting which I have now decided to call Don Quixote of the Orient, since the poem has given it to me.
She sang like a nightingale The crowd was ecstatic Their cries of Encore! Were a balm to her soul Her hair hangs like midnight Her face totally hidden Tears course her cheeks For the wondrous applause
('Hope' by George Frederic Watts) You called me Hope But hope of what I ask you? As I sit here on a barren rock Beside a bitter, forlorn, green sea Is the blindfold bound around my eyes To prevent my... Continue Reading →
Scribbles from me to you 