Slow Stones

the umbrella tree
two deck chairs
fresh green tea
teahouse open


above a cemetery
a crescent moon
a fox climbs a tree


cloudless night
dreams fly
in the jetstream


Inspiring Blog Award

Phew – three awards in a row! I am overwhelmed. Many blessing to Abigail aka @The_linnet for this award. I urge you to visit her wonderful blog –

The rules for this award:

1. Thank the person who gave you the award
2. Tell 7 things about you that will not come up in your blog entries.
3. Pass it on to 7 blogs you find inspiring and explain why.

So seven things about me

1. I adore poetry
2. I am addicted to yoga
3. I wish I could play a violin
4. I listen to classical music to relax
5. I am a night owl
6. My family is scattered around the world – Germany, Belgium, USA, Canada, Russia
7. I have met many wonderful friends on Twitter

And now to choose 7 blogs because they inspire me – once again I am struggling to choose between so many fabulous blogs: @dversepoets Lady Nyo Mama Zen The Tashtoo Palour Zero Summer Verse Escape Eva Von Pelt

One Lovely Blog Award

I am honoured to receive this blog award from my dear friend Louise Hastings. If you haven’t visited her blog you really should. Her poetry is superb.

The rules of acceptance for this award nomination are as follows:

  • Thank the person/people who nominated you and link back to them in your post
  • Share 7 things about yourself
  • Nominate 15 or so bloggers you admire
  • Contact your chosen bloggers to let them know

Now seven things about me:

  1. I speak to cats and dogs
  2. I love reading anything but especially crime fiction, fantasy and magical realism
  3. I adore travelling and getting lost in unfamiliar cities
  4. I am obsessed with Zen but I’m working through this
  5. My greatest fear is that kindness will disappear from the world
  6. If I don’t write poetry or take photographs I get depressed
  7. I have trouble making decisions

And now I must decide among all the wonderful blogs out there which 15 to nominate, so here goes. This mix is somewhat eccletic – something for everyone – do visit and enjoy the blogs of these interesting folk.

@Amielieja and













@remittancegirl (Adults Only)


Sunshine Award out of the blue

I was nominated for a Sunshine Award at the start of May. It really touched me and literally brought sunshine to my life when I was going through a very busy and stressful time. I would like to express my  heartfelt thanks to Jyothi for nominating me for this award. Please visit her blog for songs, book reviews and more. Here is the gorgeous award

And as per the rules for the award..

1. Need to include the award’s logo in a post or on the blog
2. Answer 10 questions about yourself
3. Nominate 10-12 other awesome bloggers
4.  Link your nominees to this post and comment on their blogs, letting them know they have been nominated :-)
5. Link the person who nominated you.

10 questions about myself ..

1. what is my zodiac sign? I am an Aries
2. what is my favorite food? My current favourite food is Korean
3. My favorite book ? My current favourite book is 1Q84 by Haruki Murakami
4. What is my favorite color? Yellow
5. What is my favorite movie? Casablanca
6. Which place would I love to go for vacation? Spain
7. Which is my favorite inspirational read? Rumi
8. Why do I blog? To share my poetry
9. What do I love doing best? Drifting in new cities, making art and writing poetry, conversations with friends
10. One thing which I would like to improve in myself: Impatience

The next step is to nominate 10-12 awesome bloggers. 

And my nominees for this award are: @peterwilkin1 @fumanchucat @louisehastings @JAHesch @Awdures @denfemte @poetjanstie @The_Linnet  @ChrisGNguyen @poemblaze

ttp:// @semaphore @expatinCAT

There are heaps more I wanted to include 🙂

Slip Alley XI

The strangler on the train
had titian hair,
Greta was certain
his beard was ginger,
she saw him clearly in the light.
He was of a solid build
looked like he’d been
working out and
had a Celtic tattoo sleeve.

Ollie raises an eyebrow,
takes a long sip of Scotch
and orders Greta a martini.

He leans forward
looking straight into
Greta’s violet melancholy eyes,
he tells her he smells danger.

He asks her about the numbers
on the slip of paper
found in the carriage
with the corpse.
The date doesn’t match
the night Jane Doe died.
There was another victim,
male, shot in this very alley
on that date. There could be
a connection. And did
the strangler see her watching?

Did he see her face?

Greta’s eyes sparkle,
she lets one tear  fall
from her right eye.
It tracks a course through
the silt of her makeup
and drips off her chin.

Ollie scratches his left eyebrow
and hands her his clean
white handkerchief.

He escorts Greta to a cab
at the corner of the alley.
He implores her to take great care
handing her his card.

Slip Alley X

Sveta sits alone
in her apartment
lights a jasmine scented candle,
pulls the curtains tight
against the patch of moonless night,
shadows double on the walls.


A woman with porcelain pink cheeks,
kabuki eyes and rosebud lips
taps along the alley
in grey stiletto boots
affecting nonchalance.

She spots a new stencil
on the red brick walls.
It’s of two cats smoking pipes,
Magritte springs
to mind on velvet paws.
Who put it there, she wonders.
Her heart is racing.

At night the light outside the cafe
hangs like a peach.

She enters,
finds a table in corner,
drapes her coat and Prada bag
across a chair.
The waiter with crystal studded ears
takes her order;
two expressos,
one Scotch and a glass of water.

She looks expectantly
towards the door. A man enters
right on cue.

“Hello Greta.”
Ollie fiddles with his coat lapel
and sits.


Lounging on her umber couch,
Sveta starts to type.

Slip Alley IX

Ollie’s blue cat
chews a rubber band,
Ollie sips his Scotch.

On his coffee table
lies the slip of paper from the train,
creased and square
once an origami crane.

He takes out a graphite pencil,
rubs, six words appear:
For sale: A coin, never used.
and two numbers underneath.
He thinks of Earnest Hemingway
and baby shoes.

4 11 2012

0444 444 444

The top appears to be a date,
Ollie smiles, the date aligns
with John Doe in the alley.

The second seems
to be an invitation,
Ollie dials the number.

A woman’s breathy voice
answers telling him
she’s been waiting
for his call, she’ll meet
him in the alley now,
at the cafe, he knows the one.

Ollie shrugs on
his Burberry coat and cap,
steps into the moonless night.
He stands on an empty street corner
waiting for a tram
on power line silhouettes
cutting up the sky.
He pulls his coat closer
against the biting wind.
Mournful streets lights shed
cool penumbras.

In the kitchen
Ollie’s cat pounces
on an errant mouse,
jade eyes gleam.