What she sees

I wonder what she sees
whilst staring at the blankness
of the middle distance, a space
of starless nights, streaks of shadows
cutting across her weightless sight.
This is her death, the way she dies,
yet somewhere in that broken mind
she breathes a restless sigh.
I wonder at her choice,
preferring numbness over life.
Her healing burns,
she feels the pain it gives.
If she knew what I knew,
would she choose to live?


by Louise



In the hushed stillness
of a musty church
I rest seeking solace
from the hurried world outside.
There is noise on the airwaves,
intruding like angry wasps
on a humid summers day.
The planet plunges onwards
reminding me of a tethered horse
standing idle for far too long
then ridden roughly over stony ground
in careering headlong flight.
Too many breaks,
shattered pieces left unrepaired.
My spirit is soothed a while,
calmed in this silent space.
The horse stands outside,
pawing the earth, menacing and quiet.


by Louise


An oak tree
living history
deep inside
ancient time
magical calm of the woods
a liminal place

canopy of leaves
greens and browns
branches bend swished by the wind
pleasure in shadows

Spring arrives
the forest awakes
teeming with
potent life
darkness resounds with rebirth
a young mother waits

by Louise

“Midway through this life of ours, I find myself alone in a dark wood” ~ Dante’s Divine Comedy

Earth Mother

She rises
waters from a spring
mothers milk
nourishing the ochre earth
puddling around her feet

blessed by southern skies
gentle winds
swelling lips
tracing contours of desires
grown in fertile soil

soft fingers
delving into depths
so deeply that she shudders
drenched in elements

by Louise