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"There is nothing inorganic... The earth is not a mere fragment of dead history, stratum upon stratum like the leaves of a book, to be studied by ge...
The fountain pen feels heavy in my hand. I haven't written for a long time. I mean written – not typed. That I do every day, all day. Click, click...
Tennis courts may be covered over and croquet lawns may have disappeared beneath overgrowth upon overgrowth, but the football pavilion still stands a...
Tree Of Life
A poem for the season of Ascension and Pentecost... Like whispering silk, the elm Like Bridal Veil the birch The Groom is gone...the Gro...
I don’t know why the caged bird sings. But I think I may have finally figured out why the others do. I take walks every day down a wooded path behi...
12 July 2019
Not sure about the "appreciated" part of translating. Relatively few reviewers even mention the tra...
Jane Phillipson Wilson
Time Is Flying and Changes Increasing!
09 July 2019
I so needed to read this today! Thank you, Sue! xxooJane
09 July 2019
What I find useful, Katia, with any form of writing when sufficient inspiration is lacking, or even ...
08 July 2019
Thank you, Moni, I've done many different jobs in my life and always managed to write. Since I've ...
07 July 2019
Yes, I know that feeling well, of needing to burst from all the restraint and you don't know how. Th...