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Tilly May 25
walking through, the burning embers of fires you started;
Tilly Oct 2020
In fields of golden glory,
we never learn lessons...
from gun metal steel grey skies,
crude oil rains run red.
Tilly Jun 2020
("hello you, are you keeping safe?)
And the whole World stops, still,
instantly at peace,
                             are remembering Us
                    A constant which
                        when all else is in flux.    

               ~In another time, I would not / should not reply~

You are with me, as I am with you.
Holding on, to the totally known

or when,
those lovely words of yours
travel to find me doesn't matter;
I feel you...
in everything beautiful,
each and every day. Always,
with the heartfelt knowledge, you
feel that same connection also.

So beautifully, uniquely everything, of everythingly.
So rare, are we...                        
Your face on my pillow,
         The moon of your smile,
Those stars,    
                     the 'too many' reasons,
              both wholesome,  
   and dreamt of.  
   Chocolate kisses.    
  Pebbles in pockets.        
Pink blue sunsets.            
A simpler World,                    
which fell away within a gaze.

Our secrets forever safe in our perfect. bubble, so preciously protected from the storm outside

~We will never meet another soul, as Us~

watching such a beautiful man endure such turmoils, was so heartbreaking for your butterfly...
Even if,
she does understand
all the reasons why
you stayed...

I listened to your turmoil by the sea (the chaos effect of your butterfly was rippling throughout you)

We, hurt Us.

And of all the 'too many' reasons,

Our life...was so blissfully simple.
Those times, with our children,
were so precious;
Reducing Us to tears
[knowing our potential].

If, a butterflys' brief life was offered longevity;
In a heartbeat,
her wings would shine like diamond...
So strong for you
(& for the Us, of 6)

You would fall,
& I could catch you

    be allowed

But you,
my darling man,
know this already...
[It is not a conversation you are ready to have,
there were no promises...
there are no answers...
the choice to let us go,
   was the right thing

Who knows where this path
- this new World - leads us
as our children stay closer,
grow wiser, & shout louder.
they will teach us to be braver?
O­n the other side of here?
    ­                             no matter what...
                             We do the right thing:

And where, together, we hear
the echo of a cracking heart

("You are adored, without question,")
is all you need to hear

True...except for the words I didn't send
Oct 2019 · 324
Always, a muse (d)
Tilly Oct 2019
Sitting  naked
for respected fellows...
nymph to Rubinesk:
  I'm purest
Perhaps they paint the colour of my soul...
True story
Tilly Oct 2019
with nothing:
There's still so much
more to give.

Feelings ease, as toes
are dipped, in sweet clover.

Brazen, underneath starlit skies;
We too, have died before.

Bodies alight with
heavenly fires;
Intense passions igniting
honest reactions.

Join (and part) each atom of self,
to allow flow:

As saline spills, across arid plains, filling emptiness... with oceans.

single flower
may bloom, in decoration of
soulful beauty. 
Whisper our riddling...
over long gone shadows'.
Missing pieces

Those need(s) of yours,
or mine.

We, are here... now

sigh        sigb
s i g h s i g h s i g h
S I G H  S I G H
Or should the title be
We *were* this
. ..once
Oct 2019 · 389
to my old self, a rhyme
Tilly Oct 2019
Upon the alabaster, crafted; An ink
so deep, so everlasting.
Driven hard...
to let the art in;
Words unspoken,
sear the darkest.
Beg the finish
(& ******)

Open to eyes:
A poets soul's exalted.
In all ways...always (a)mused the words still swirl & chase.
Tilly Feb 2019
So many                      

       which bleed           unpausing;

  Pronouns punctuated;
    P a u s e, 
I love a zero pronoun ;)
Sep 2014 · 782
Tilly Sep 2014
in places              dreamt of
  where we forgot to breathe &
  each silence speaks  
Aug 2014 · 423
Grant yourself this...
Tilly Aug 2014
clarity*           ~ in sensing the fall~                             
when known, makes        each spiral stop:
You... are still here,           you will         
get up**.
Aug 2014 · 543
#f@@kdatag :)
Tilly Aug 2014
Ink* not ...                                                              ­             
                     the reader, nor, *give
                                          lettered meaning; Pen ...                                          
                                                                ­                interpretation.
10 words
for the grown ups
May 2014 · 512
caught... (10w)
Tilly May 2014
in mixed metaphor
sublime similes
are always
May 2014 · 658
... at eights whim.
Tilly May 2014
Tempt not the silk beneath you, nor covet jewels aside.
Poisons' flow beseeching...*

*The ways she'd make you die

May 2014 · 1.7k
lucid (10w)
Tilly May 2014
upon growing

Tilly Apr 2014
Never freer, than the moving wood on
bitter breeze,

once sweet.

Air, which claimed a forest,
contracts flesh    still.

Only bone
shall run from here;
Blood and guts

-left at the edge of day-
in sunlights' slanting strobes.

And there...                         
              always there
                             (stays hidden)              
                  amongst wisps of mist;

Wistful, weary,
supping dew from
far reaching branches.
                                            Feet bare...

Hair tangled
from the escape of night,
in shaded visions.

there is just the
wood & no trees.
returning to writing...
back home, in the nook :)
Tilly Apr 2014
March hares light Her way through putti dawn*
~fecundity spreading beneath bare feet~
  as grey paschal masses embrace
Eostre, Anglo-Saxon goddess of Spring (Bede)
Tilly Jan 2014
Bravery ne'er dwells within a clever mind;
Unable to match the faster propelled.

[When faith fails]  one outcome's
already known.

Wishing you all adventures in 2014 :)
</3 times keep me away... x
Tilly Dec 2013
By paper-lantern light

flames colour a snow crystals dance, beautifully enchanting, to

the distant sound of singing; Joyous songs of celebration, lulling all in revelry. Each note heard

in silent reverence, beneath the skeletal canopy of majestic oak spread. Where from amongst the

damp branches,wise old saucer eyes calls "Ubi? Ubi?", heralding a cacophony of wide-eyed

whispers. This afternoon, sweet twilight guides our paths as we search on ever onward journeys

unknown; Our arms collecting firewood, to fill the empty hearths of others. Unaware of the cold

hands, we are, when there's such warmth in our hearts. We toil within the stillness,  

snow falling softly,and covering the crisp ground.         From deep beneath
         the dazzling pure white,                                     tiny hibernating animists   

blink wide from the                            warmth of hidden

 woodland beds.                        Gently,         
   sweep the                   12 droplets
                             of ice from                 all our eyes, Sol,                   
                             as we cough        darkness                                
                     from our      lungs,                       
                       watching the sparkles     of no                                              
                      matter,  floating                  
in the  paper-
            lantern light            
       to scatter across    
this   Solstice   sky,
illuminating our fates,
as cold  snowflake hearts
twinkle like falling stars, unseen,
turning, embracing the return of the Light
a seasonal  repost....
no snow in the UK yet, but hoping for a ***** frost on the Solstice :)

Peace & Love this Yuletide
and to all,
returning light...
L  ***
Tilly Dec 2013
stand       there
- naked          & exhausted -
 a silhouette at   twilight;     Bowing to
the     end    of seasons     as a final gold tear
spins...    down   into shadows that lengthen, on this
  brighter day
. . .      
I will remember,        creaks out  
       from   an open spread of  arms in     a vast greying sky;      
Heard, by listening ears,    which embrace each darkness.
     Every  barest  recollection  -of ever changing filigree        
   falling silently to loom,           (hungry worms    
              feast far below)       where once               
           warmth    shimmered       
         in gentle breezes-      
             Alive forever
within*  *the                                             
    sleep of our trees
Tilly Nov 2013
"Simply free"- Beneath,and  beyond; I write

of beating hearts... bleeding hearts.

Reasons' resounding, given words
~ in gravity, or flight
for you... and every songbird x
Tilly Nov 2013
Curtains up

  you're the King
   of the whole
    **** stage  


  just another

acting out
for those
cheap seats
you survey

Where else

get to see
such a
-free play?"


"Best you
throw some sweets.

Indulge them

I'd say!
...I'd say!"

The Evil Queen 
a knife glints in her hand


Behind You?
(or... does she need a real man?)


    you see...

& she knows
where to find you..

(evil laughter)


just as well
you're in costume  remember
your lines

"Don't props (& illusions) make a jolly good night!"

and baby, *WOW!

you look
Oh! Soooo cute
in those tights!

                                  *and with a sweep of the stage, the smirking Queen exits >               right

This stage
is all yours now

So Buttons...    take a bow
(us Brits love an underdog in a fight)

... Make your bow deep
~with a flourish of resplendence~
that captures their hearts

try more than That wiggle
-and a lot more-
than one dance!

                       To do it well...                                                          ­              
get a catchphrase

(which we'll ALL lurvey darlink from the start)

Believe me,
is good


the one
    you've used in  
   rehearsals with the
- all dragged up-
       V      U
          E            G
               L       L      
                                                 Y              (like their mother)

 ­                                   cough                       ­ 
                                **** it..
                               Everyone chokes
                               on the dry ice that swirls!

                     The audience ponders....

WHO's the boys ?

THAT's... a... girl ?!  

            they'll see      
    Cinders singing
of loves' sweet melody,
  those s l o w shoe shuffles    
        softly sliding across their        
                                 ­                        a
                                                               ­ p
                                                              ­                             door hearts  
Laughing & crying along through
each emotion of the tattered  
sweet princess, who     
         simply hasn't had        
                     a Prince in her...                
  Act II ends

a Flash!
a Bang!

They all lived  
ever after...
Cinders' happy?

Enjoying the merry-men-t of Pant-Oh!
Pantomine...Traditionally performed from Christmas ' til mid January, with family audiences.

A popular form of British theatre, incorporating song, dance, buffoonery, slapstick, cross-dressing, in-jokes, topical references, audience participation, and mild ****** innuendo.

           HIS crown &    
            shashy's away    
             with a

(written, as part of the Yule-tired man series in December 2012)
Tilly Nov 2013
coloured flames and fireflies dance mischievously around our heads

to the tiny trumpetsong of bees Joyous songs of love lulling all in revery yet silent to

mere mortals as We only hear the hush of whispered sighs stood beneath the dappled canopy of  

ancient fair oak spread As sweet twilight greets us again swathing our Ianthe in milky moonlight

as she rests upon a dew jewelled knoll still dreaming of fae Unaware of the cold (or the warmth

you hold in your heart for her) She smiles as you cover her shoulders with a elven~made

blanket of gossamer wisp whilst estivating toads blink wide in the coolness of hidden
mossy beds                         Gently,
sweep the                 droplet
                         of Au            from her eye, Deva,
  as we cough etheric      dust from our lungs,
sparkles    floating
in the paper-
            lantern light              
scattering across
the midnight sky,
illuminating fates,
as those fire-flies hearts
twinkle like falling stars unseen
When the veil thins, and jack o'lanterns protect,listen
to the wise ones with Samhain blessings.
Happy Autumn x
Sep 2013 · 773
at the brink of... soon
Tilly Sep 2013
         curl over                         a grassy ledge
above a raging sea            Whispers
on the wind say nothing to
save descents to me
Sep 2013 · 1.4k
Tilly Sep 2013
of   this,
full to burst

~ until known (and shared)~
is felt;

                     ­            without.
(one stroke)

Armin van Buuren - this is what it feels like
Tilly Sep 2013
Angel torches
filter sunlight 
across a vast   
         of sea foam                    
 topaz  touches         
                          through the              
             deepest dark      
                  blues - no body            
             can exist within            
      jewelled sapidity.    

Not an 'I' in sight :)
Gauntlet challenge completed, Mr Lipstadt ...
Sep 2013 · 813
Tilly Sep 2013
Pieces of you, I've collected;
Soothingly held - *like pebbles kept in pockets
Never once feeling the weight,
only their sparkle
Talking to a friend, reminded me...

Of my curiosity when meeting a  '***** by choice' nomad
(his words, not mine!) - who carried a brick with him.

I asked him, Why?

*"On cold days" he said,"I put the brick in the base of the fire,
so as the night draws in and the fire dies -
I wrap it in a towel to keep my feet warm overnight."*

Smelling Autumn bonfires as our darker nights draw in,
I think of him; With his *choice* of burden.

Tilly Sep 2013
(the gate's been left hitched open, with fraying string   ajar)*

"Although, I've left you clear directions to the travellers' garden path -
              yet, you've chosen a different route - to all you're searching for."

I wait, at a journeys end of heady scents, tending ancient roses trees at it's breadth;

Sipping warming cups of rosemary blues, infused with sweet thymes' underneath.
Perhaps, just an invitation to the garden was quite enough... to let fear decide your fate.

*Bared soles should move with deeper love... when pure destiny awaits.
In the language of flowers...

Rose: Love, desire
Thyme: Courage, strength
Rosemary: Rememberance

Dock: used to calm sting nettle rash :)
Sep 2013 · 762
behind Autumns' eyes (4:20)
Tilly Sep 2013
He harvests;
                     The beautiful chaos of her curiosity ~
                                                               ­                  as an unblemished apple falls...      
                                                           ­                   for equal measures of sugar & spice.

                                                       ­                                                  ♥
Tilly Aug 2013
Hurt... like the tigeress,
who stood on a thorn; Only
she keeps licking the pain ~
for the scent of rose.
Purr x
Tilly Aug 2013
Briefly, I glimpsed a lone tiger today.
Felt  her presence at distance, as she
   smoothed bristled fur... with
rough tongue!
Today is GCSE results day here in the UK...
I'm the very proud mum of an A grade student -
.... x♥x ....

... & just taking a look back into the dust of our journey

A huge thank you from me, to all those who have read (& supported)
my loosened licks ;)
Tilly Aug 2013
Metanoia begs the muse   believe...              
"Accept the current, do not fight the flow."      

True, and known,
these aching limbs must
rest within the deepest ebb
- as the ocean swells
with each new

Drifting far
when floating; Sinking
deeply into crystal nothingness
- unless held by a sturdy rock,
tethered taut.
Promises sung, in rounds, stay...
Swirled upon a blushed summers breeze; Heard,
liberated, in flight's of birdsong
across sunset skies.
       Connected distant energies may still   
but for always, will burn brightly in each
& every shining light seen by
her sextant soul

on the

"Surrender the past  & tomorrow  comes... 
never unbound."
~ ♥ ~
From me to all that is now, known, & yet to Be...

Metanoia (n);
the journey of changing ones mind, heart, self, or way of life
Jul 2013 · 684
Plainly speaking...
Tilly Jul 2013
living life* without a single metaphor, is **like...
Has someone said this before...
Oh well!
Jun 2013 · 971
petit Déjeuner (sensual)
Tilly Jun 2013
We, stayed up late;
Saw his shadow cast away
a distance. Sung his song.

We, rise alone:
Clutching the fruits of
imaginings. Sated of hunger.

We hear birdsong
& bees, pollinating the blossom,
in everlasting harmony.

We watch steam
form clouds around us,
alighting over our morning cups.

We stir, refreshed, tasting nectar anew.
Oh... qui

stayed up late,
watched the moon
... an apple & Americano for breakfast,  
whilst baking a cake :)
Tilly Jun 2013

. even' .
closer    let me
   feel you,      whole,
  as      our darkness
brims full     again
with pearlised
. light .

Super Moon June 23rd
Conversely the tiniest thing I've ever written, so, a big noise to go with the Silence fits too

as healing energies abound,
our change is constant
Tilly Jun 2013

papered white,
there is one wall in
  his room of spines for
 a  muse. His beautiful
   abstraction ~ carved
  &   polished    ~
       hung as his     
light & time
with a resonance  
of understanding as
beads of fiction fall*

    *Colouring other walls vibrant          
                           these spines shine      
                                   with jewels        
                           his souls'             

        *      *   free    *         *            
        *        *         
You decide, an Hourglass or  a Keyhole?

When gifted with an empty 'box' to fill recently,
the poetess' curiosity found Hope remains... Inside :)

... an extract taken from Hesiod ~ Works and Days
a lyric from Adele ~ Rolling in Deep

"Only Hope was left within her unbreakable house,
she remained under the lip of the jar, and did not fly away.
Before [she could], Pandora replaced the lid of the jar."  

"Turn my sorrows into treasured gold....
you'll pay me back in kind,
and reap just what you sow"
Tilly Jun 2013
"Weary traveller...                                                     ­      
                              Journeying, is not a destination.
Come* ~ seek solace now~ & rest; Within,                   
                                                                ­                                                       a dappled canopy of forest light"
of moving on...
& perhaps, finally, being able to see
the wood for the trees

Tilly Jun 2013

let us walk thro'
salve & orange diamonds,
to the place where sea meets sky.
             wild fires will surround us both, in             
          1000 jars of sighs.   Do we dare set            
compass, to where others fear to
tread & find our sacred centre
in the gold orb o'erhead*  
Happy Solstice,
may it be your longest day,
of Peace & Love x

... feel the Elements connecting distance, with light <3
Jun 2013 · 694
...pressed (poem art)
Tilly Jun 2013
in flowers,
     heady blooms    
     and English    
Tea rose
     ~ *Taking    
                         to nose,    
                                             & to a                      
                                         ­       hearts'                      
                                                             ­ blank                                      
                    ­   book

of time...
& tales
- from a honeysuckle scented garden

(10w x2)
Jun 2013 · 768
to touch reality... (4:20)
Tilly Jun 2013
Wild fires rage (dispersed & contained),
without smoke slipping through your fingers;  
~ Feeling the future is like catching sparks ~
Happy Monday... x

- and to the 1%
Really?! Do you reckon so?
Jun 2013 · 1.2k
... a shovel, please (Adult)
Tilly Jun 2013

layers of        
of timely geology

carve me well...  


such cannons

   an age of  

- floored-

            mouths of    




May 2013 · 958
of fire; Reborn, in petals.
Tilly May 2013

                                                                ­            "... Come,                     
                                                              ­                 catch her."                     

                                                Rising;        ­       
                          fr­om glowing
               by the hollow
                   of her              
                              amidst sweet
                                from the   
                                    Wings spread;                  
"Do you see them?"        


                                                    ­         without       
                                                                ­    a course.      
                                                              ­follow her tail    
                                       across an  
                                                  ever brigh­tening          

her fire
your eyes.
                          as her tears    
                                                 heal your                        
                                                    Reach out,              
                                                                ­          touch                                    
                                    ­                        each                
                                                               silver lining  
                                                                ­   she                   
                                          ­                    takes             
                                                         ­       You                      
                   on a
                                deliciously,          ­        
                   in the              
                   wisps of          
                           ­             together    
                                             with the sound
                                               of their sweet        
                                                   ­  laughter.                         
               ­         ~Open~

                                       ­       a sky of                       
                                                  blossom &                          
                                                                ­       sparks.                                                
                                        ~At One~               
                                as       ­     
                             ­         around,                  
                          she hears, quite         
                          ... unmistakeably ...          
                                                                          ~for the sake of mischief~                                                       ­ 
                                         whispered softly, with                     
                               ­              each bluster.                           
                                                          ­ *"Do you hear it too?"                                  

...the start... is an echo from our much-missed poet JP
Tilly May 2013
Seeing her face reflected; Framed, by widening skies...
  Quietly, to the puddle below her,
she drips the ask of

When trying to clip a butterflies wings, sometimes,
those emerald scissors outshine;
Even her,
of loving heart & open... Mind!
Tilly May 2013

                                                     copse & bluebell          
                                                 bower, hot scents of        
                                        wild garlic give way to a
                                             mist of forget me nots. Let      
                                              those sweet fragrances mix,      
                                       as cooled air glistens on soft
                                       green; Breathe deep, the
                                               earth, as it's wiped           
                                                        ­        from your                           
                                                    back        ­            
                                                          ­    ghosts                                    
                           for release
"Do you feel it?"
where the bud grows free*~
listening to guillemots, made up love song #43
Tilly May 2013
"Life is not always black & white, Mr Magpie...
it's ALIVE! 
~ See Yourself ~
Mix the spectrum, with those stunning pigments."
Look closely at his preened feathers :)

They are also one of the few creatures that can recognise themselves in a mirror test :)
Tilly May 2013
which burn our eyes. Punctuation
as closures; Defined
in closed throats*.
(one stroke)
Tilly May 2013
Undone by his wings of black and white,
              I spit in his               

As he shadows me
on these solemn days -
in singular.

His head tilted
and beady eyes
watchful; Hunting.

He senses

Fly away!
Take your sorrow...

Leave me be,
with this
:/ A clever, mischievous bird has taken a shine to me -  inspiring a little Folklore...
Seeing a single Magpie, is known as a bad omen in Britain
& we have some odd ways of warding off the bad luck!

Some spit over their shoulder when they meet Mr Magpie,
Others salute him with a respectful Good Morning.

Whilst counting Magpies, is an old childhood game...
One for Sorrow, Two for Joy, Three for a Girl, Four for a Boy, Five for Silver, Six for Gold
Seven for a Secret ne'er to be told.
Tilly May 2013
Do you see him behind me?

Stood, in mists of muddy red, with arms gesticulating;

I can't...
With opened closures.
Muddy red aura - Anger (repelling)
May 2013 · 607
Leave each day...(4:20)
Tilly May 2013
Leave each day... and watch
my silent words forming stars above you.
Shining, yet dead; Overt within
nights black hollow.
missing someone special :/
(rather dramatically, lol)
Tilly Apr 2013
THE SIGN* arrived, with masking tape,
stuck upon the door.
                                    TRASH BAG WARNING
it yelled
(with smiley face)
                                  ~I cannot see the floor!~

A sigh was heard
- by all the house -
the sign read ALOUD, once more.

                                                soon followed it, as my Batgirl
                                                >slammed< her door!

And maybe,
there was a curse or two;
Beneath her breath   repeated.
life went on,
with nothing wrong &
the pile of stuff depleted!

it took the loudest hour,
'til Batgirl opened her door.
Trash bag tied   with masking tape
& 'the amended sign' re-applied

                                             Holy tidy rooms,
                                             Batgirls' done it!                          
                                             DONE & DUSTED

                ­  Whilst         the P.S. made us both smile...                                                         ­        
                         ­             (Obviously not literally dusted, Mum, 
                                        but even you, The Joker, can get the gist!)"

*For-given the prior scene of teenage devastation... Batgirls' reply had been superhero swift!
True Story...

QUESTION: What to do with One teenage daughter + too much stuff & too much revision
< No time to tidy! =  :'( when we can't find anything?
SOLUTION: Give 24hrs warning of Mum donning full chemical suit & going in to tidy.
(Rule being that anything on the floor goes in the bag)

Remember to add some humour :D

Batgirl also added an illustration, of a duster over a vat of ACID with a cheeky explanation...

"Can our caped crusaders, defeat the devilish deeds of Mummy Linda, and escape in this episode:"

Um, no, sweet child of mine... Mummy has a duster and she knows how to use it... Mwahahahaha x
Apr 2013 · 843
Within the bat of an eye...
Tilly Apr 2013
an eye from
the wallpaper,
I wonder...
always stink?
Just keeping a watch out for
the elephant in the room x
Tilly Apr 2013

smooth skeletal
hands turned
long before
our lips dried

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