What came to pass


Where there was friendship once, the land now lies neglected, weeds and ruins usurping sweet memories
The woman who could talk the black of a crow suddenly doesn’t think there is anything to add
Others she involves
With an edited report
She omits facts that are crucial
She’s very, very careful
And in this way she redraws
Her fingers dirty with chalk
Her mind febrile
She stoops to – almost – lies
As a last resort
Until she is left
With the picture
That will let
Live with herself
But the truth she hides, ignores
It’s too harsh and too simple
What came to pass was due to the worship of false idols over honesty and the real

Image credit: Abandon on Instagram


“She’s gay and you’re straight, she loves you ‘that way’, you like men, you think you can be friends? Blah blah blah…”

I wonder about those who look, stare intently and yet see nothing. What of them?

Pity and fury require too much energy, disdain demands a little caring.

They think of it as a game of chess, moving pieces on the board,

I want to jump and dance on the dark squares waving my hands in the air

let the pawns do as they will,
be static,

I know only one thing, I am not willing
to sacrifice my queen, won’t have her or me reduced to our sexuality. Is it such a wild thing to believe—imagine—we are much more than tits on a stick?

She is passion, and maybe in another dimension I like pussy and we align perfectly—maybe—gotta throw something to the gossip

She is strength, she is the sun rising in the east, the hopeful flower burgeoning too early in the spring

She writes words on small paper boats and sends them down rivers, whether they float or sink without a trace does not fucking matter

in the slightest, because she dares, and cares

She sees with her eyes closed
much further than most, even them with their night vision goggles

There was no need or craving, but so much room for her

when she appeared

and instantly took a place that was hers, as surely as if her name had been carved there before birth

See, us?
It’s our story: she’s gay, I’m straight and we love each other—
talk about it, analyse it, make it sordid, seedy, do whatever but…deal with it, yeah?

Because, you know? We don’t really give a shit what anybody else thinks.

Sisters last longer than lovers, we’re gonna be laughing together forever.



This knight follows no Lord
By his side a trusty steed
Wearing an old saddle
Adorned with a single white rose
And a sword
Never drawn
Honour or love dictates
As Proud is his heart
Pure is his soul
Mighty is his power
When he weaves words
To while away the hours
Waiting for the one queen
Of his love worthy
The one he will climb mountains
Fight dragons with iron scales
And red fiery breath
Some don’t believe he’s real
They assume he was borrowed
From some far-fetched fable
Tales told around a fireplace—
In hushed whispers
The language of the dreamers—
A fantasy given life and form
In volutes of ethereal smoke
Giving rise to a humble hero
Make no mistake
He’s no mere story
No figment, no trick
His name is Eric
My modest lines do him no justice
Not legend or myth, the reality is epic

*I wrote this for the lovely Eric @ My Sword and Shield… whose birthday it is today (and since we’re in different time zones, it is now the 13th for me if not for him quite yet) Eric’s birthday comes straight after mine and we are both Pisces, just another thing we have in common. You all already know I love this man, he has the most wonderful heart and his writing is out of this world.
Thank you for being such a special friend, Eric—wishing you a fantastic birthday! 😘💜

Image Credit: It had to be John William Waterhouse whose work I absolutely love


Today is my birthday: every year I dread it for no particular reason apart from the fact  I’m getting older. I can be found muttering darkly weeks before the actual event, from January onward actually.

Well, the day has arrived and it would be churlish to carry on with the pathetic self-pity when I woke up to cards, gifts, texts and so on from so many people.

I am very, very lucky to have many amazing people in my life, I have no right to complain about anything at all.

So, in that spirit, I will be sipping on French champagne by the time you guys read this.

I will be celebrating, not moaning about the inevitable because, older or not: life is really, really good right now—I am blessed in so many ways and it is not something I should ever forget.

Ps: I am aware I have probably already used up my quota of selfies for the entire year but…I don’t really care 😜

Nathalie’s fault…

Everybody knows I love Eric’s writing (and Eric himself)
Tonight, he left a comment on my “Plus-one” post that was epic.
It wasn’t a comment—it was a story, it was a fable, it was a ballad.
I was blown away by it and when Eric asked if I minded him turning it into a blog post, I told him he’d better or I would have to do it myself since his words were too gorgeous not to be shared.
So, he did and I’m reblogging it. I’m so, SO honoured (and touched) my blurry photograph inspired such beautiful lines. Please read the luscious words of a wonderful man—a knight and a bard rolled into one 😍💜

Happy New Year

I didn’t have the heart to write anything new and although I will most definitely not end up in a giant champagne glass tonight because this is going to be a quiet one for me for obvious reasons…the feelings in last year’s post still apply. Love to all of you 💜


DitaThe people of WordPress have meant so much to me this past year: so many of you…I’ve never met…but you’ve made your way into my heart all the same. Through my writing, you have seen parts of me that my “real life” friends rarely see — it makes you all very important to me, it gives us a special connection that I truly treasure.

I want to thank you all for being part of my life, for letting me in your world, for sharing thoughts, ideas, words and feelings. I also want to wish all of you a very Happy New Year — I hope it’s full of creativity, inspiration, and mainly, full of love. Because where there’s no love, there’s nothing.
❤️ See you on the other side of 2015 ❤️

Ps: Why Dita? Because I love her, because she’s a girl after my own heart, because those are…

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Connected hearts can never be torn apart

I muddled through Christmas and the festivities because that’s what you wanted. You asked us to live even as you lay dying.

“No sorries, not now and not after.”

I did my best…I socialised and laughed…but drank too much because all the while you were at the back of my mind as I tried to grant your request.

It’s not as if I didn’t know what was coming, and yet I wasn’t prepared. You must forgive me for my goodbyes (I know you have) — between the tears and the accent, it’s a wonder you could understand what it was I was saying.

I’d promised myself I’d be brave for you at the end but my heart failed me. “Hold on”, I wanted to say, “hold on a little longer”…but that would have been so selfish when you were ready to go. Do you understand why I couldn’t help but cry when I said “if you don’t want to keep fighting, don’t. Only you know when it’s your time, and if it’s yours, just let go.” It broke my heart to tell you to leave but what else could I do when it was so clearly your wish.

My brave, brave cowboy, my heart is so heavy…but I feel your presence, still. I saw you smile when I wrote those few lines for you in the bar last night: “his words are carved on my heart” I told the friend I’d spent the day with.
“Write this down” he said, so I did because I knew you’d approve – like me, you always understood pain has to be bled on a page.
It was you who then moved the alcohol out of reach, you who whispered I’d had enough and should go home, it was you still looking after me.

I miss you so much already but I know that whenever I look at the night sky, you’ll be sitting on your favourite star and you’ll wink, wave and say howdy to the crazy French lady. And I’ll wink and wave right back — connected hearts can never be torn apart.

*Thank you to everyone who has left comments on my blog, I appreciate everyone of them more than you know and will reply to them all shortly – thank you so much for your patience 💜 *


Everything that would have



you showed me your world
so different than mine
we walked for miles
under a sky much bigger
than I could ever
have dreamed
branches creaking
under the weight of snow
silence broken by sounds
of life slowed to a crawl

we went inside
my cheeks flushed from wonder
and the cold
we had a couple of whiskey
shots while you told me stories
some sad
others brought a twinkle to your eyes
I listened while your heart
was lying in the palm
of your hand
I cried a little
I laughed a lot more

of course then I didn’t know
I was the proverbial squirrel
putting it all away for a winter
still waiting in the future
one that would be harsher
than either of us could ever imagine

I reminisce about
the moments
that never took place
the memories
we never made
everything that would have
if we’d only had more time

*I over indulged Christmas Eve and again yesterday – too much alcohol, too little sleep and by 11.30pm last night, listening to the voice of my brave and so special friend in the US, I found myself breaking down and getting v.emotional. Then, straight on top of that, the news about George Michael…it was time to retreat inside my shell to process it all. Still feeling fragile today, I think I’m going to keep myself to myself for the rest of the day.*



each snow flake falling
twirling lazily
each one carries a trace
a memory of my face
while the wind
whipping them into a frenzy
whispers softly:
“Merry Christmas, my friend
I bring tidings from across the seas
as well as much-needed strength
from one who cares
with a depth
you couldn’t possibly guess.”

Image credit: https://nature.desktopnexus.com/get/529579/?t=1uuhl5der66a9fv4mg99fhj9e7585abebac12b6