The Soiree – #MicroFiction



Even as the last hues of diminishing day fall silent in the hush of twilight,
trepidation dances with delicious anticipation.
Shadows lengthen into velvet darkness
as the bluster of rush and hurry scurrying from the daylight stretches out against the cool shadows to sigh.
Midnight flutes serenade the sparkling hours of night
as billows of possibility mingle with whispers of dreams
like lovers dallying amid the soiree,
kissing the sweet honeyed nighttide before Apollo stirs.


Poetry and Art by ~Morgan~

~Thank You for reading ~

If you’d like to keep up with everything I’m doing, sign up for my monthly newsletter by visiting my author website

If you’d like to see more of my artwork, please visit my DeviantArt page

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The Blessing That Walks Softly – #Inspirational #Poetry


The Blessing that Walks


Be the Breath of the Moon

And the Smile of the Sun,

Be the Source of Gentle Grace

And the Joyful Giver, where there’s none.

Be the Praise in the Morning

And the Laughter of the Breeze,

Be the Patience of the Evening

And the Acceptance that Kindly Frees.

Be the Love of the Lingering Blossom

And the Hope of the Gentle Rain,

Be the Blessing that Walks Softly

Through this world’s avenues of Pain.


Simple Acts of Kindness can change the world, but they require change within us first.  How?  By Being the Blessing that walks softly.


I invite you to JOIN ME in Creating Positive Change through poetry.

Whether you opt for Free Verse, Form, Narrative, or Visual Poetry, I hope you will take up this simple challenge to post once a week about something you BELIEVE needs to be changed.

Please use the hashtag

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It’s been ages since I wrote a WIP Wednesday post. So when I saw this POST this morning by Staci Troilo, it prompted me to share a little of what I am currently writing.

The way Staci does this is to choose a random word and then find a passage that fits. It can be the actual word, a synonym, or a theme.

The word of the day is WHITE.

And here is the passage I chose:

This is currently a mystery and I am loving it, time to get back to writing it, I think…

Creature of the Rustling Sea – #Fantasy #Poetry


Trade my Heart for any Notion,
Rocking on the Breathing Ocean.
Dreaming in the Midnight Hour,
Gentle Rain, Falling Shower.

Love and Passion upon the Breeze,
Life is too short, Not enough Ease.
Silence Drifting like the Soaring Gull,
Hear the waves lap against the Hull.

Starlight Glistens, a Guiding Light,
Truth and Serenity, beacon of Night.
Upon this Shifting, Churning Tide,
A Breathless, Tantalizing, Lonely Ride.

Creature of the Rustling Sea,
Come and Share the Day with Me.
Walk with me Upon the Shore,
Hold my Hand and nothing More.
Until the Deep Beckons you Home,
and I stand amidst the Breakers Foam.


Poetry and Art by ~Morgan~


~Thank You for reading ~

If you’d like to keep up with everything I’m doing, sign up for my monthly newsletter by visiting my author website

If you’d like to see more of my artwork or commission a character, please…

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Reblogs – Elle & VJ Knutson

I Write Her

BenMoses M – Unsplash

Our evolution demands introspection, acceptance, and determination.

162 by Elle

self-doubt chimes, loudly
at success’ precipice
just drown out the noise

Ghosts and Shadows by VJ Knutson

Ghosts have no shadows
they are unsubstantiated
rumours of a life…

I exist, not because
of my shadows, and despite
the times I’ve been ghosted

Ghosts and shadows –
without them I am two-dimensional
with them, I am poetry.

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Pen of the Damned

She sat straight, legs crossed, palms filling with rising moonlight. Each in-breath had the cool chill of autumn night. Each out-breath had the warm hunger of her heart. Breathing in nightfall, breathing out hunger, she reminded herself that she was controlled by neither.

And yet, the moonlight had its plans.

The moon rose higher, and she felt her hunger rising to meet it. Her breath came faster now. New scents, new possibilities drifted on the night air, and she breathed them in, savored them through her sharpening senses. Her savoring turned to panting. As her breathing sped, swift and shallow, she found herself losing all count of in-breaths and out-breaths. Losing all sense of control. All sense of herself.

Her hunger howled within her, and as the last of her humanity slipped away, her limitations went too. She lost herself, but gained the night. She had no need for counting…

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#WordlessWednesday . . . The Willow Woman

Stepping into Spring…

As yesterday was the spring equinox, I decided to take a walk in our garden.  My dizzy problem had returned, and I hoped the fresh air would help. This problem is a regular visitor who usually gives up after a day or two.  I had given up trying to write as wearing my glasses made it worse, so I took them off and was stumbling around the garden like an idiot. But every time I saw a flash of colour I took a picture.

I am dictating this as the keyboard is a blur, so I apologise for any discrepances.

The first flash of colour I spotted was the yellow forsythia, which for some reason, is growing in the hedge that runs down our garden, separating us from the neighbours. I rather like it there.

This Japanese quince is a bonsai, currently awaiting repotting.

Not sure what these are called, but they appear all over the place.

Such a lovely colour…

And finally, I must add my little orphan, this white azalea. I have had him for a long time; he never seems to grow but always blooms around Christmas. These flowers are the fourth to arrive; all the others were knobbled by the weather!