It wasn't the loudest voice that got her attention, it was the silent one. The one that could mist a mountain with a single breath.

She found an angel with broken wings. She had always loved broken things, with their sharp dangers, keeping her alert, grounded.

A sleeping tambourine's jingle. A drum tuned & unplayed. A heart ready for love.

In honour of hidden things, she roamed the garden for shy flowers, toadstools and rotting leaves.

Sing an old song, play dress ups, talk to the birds on the clothesline, peek over the back fence, make fairy bread.

I am forever taking my shoes off. I want to remember the path.

We tried to whisper our hidden screams and ended up screaming our secrets

I believe in you. The words circled her head and came to rest in her palm. Outside in a window-box, the sapling uncurls a new leaf.

Tonight a song entered the room of souls. A song about a little girl sleeping with a night light on, and lavender.

Sunday thoughts rise to the roof of the big grey blanket of cloud over the town. Birds weave between the words.

The ferris wheel turned endlessly, the ticket seller grumbles at his ink stained fingers, a little boy wonders at a dancing kite.

Girl watching fireworks. 'That's the old year breaking into a trillion pieces'. Happy New Year overflowing with blessings from @myarspoetica

Shake out innocence in a warm breeze, iron out the brown paper bag of dreams, scent with compassion, fold into an origami crane. fly.

Our words rise a little off the ground like a kite. Sometimes the wind heeds the call home of mother.

We dwell in the roots to understand the branches that seek the sky.

The robot pulled down the blankets, tucked in the children & read them a story of a time when people ate together at tables and laughed.

The floor started to undulate & everything she owned rippled out of the door. All that was left was a shard of the moon & a droplet of sun.

Honeyed words dripped dripped on the floor. It would take her years to get rid of the stray bees.

The sun went down before she could say 'light me another tune'. The alley cats were found in a great big huddle asleep on her doorstep #Amy

Everyone is writing a book. I am a book.