Azure Black Tango

Sun in Gemini

It’s a slow, slow tango

An explosion of deepest bright

A passion written in held-back movement

A surrender to the night

That follows…

As, soft within the darkness

The folds of black reverse

And singing not heard in daylight

Is loosed upon the universe

In perfect union.

© Stephen Tanham

Stephen Tanham is a director of theSilent Eye School of Consciousness, a not-for-profit organisation that helps people find a personal path to a deeper place within their internal and external lives.

The Silent Eye provides home-based, practical courses which are low-cost and personally supervised. The course materials and corresponding supervision are provided month by month without further commitment.

Steve’s personal blog,Sun in Gemini,is at

You’ll find friends, poetry, literature and photography there…and some great guest posts on related topics.

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Blog Tour: The Port Naain Intelligencer Series, by Jim Webster.

Stevie Turner

I’m pleased to showcase two of Jim Webster’s new books today, which are part of The Port Naain Intelligencer series of short stories.  The first one, ‘The Plight of the Lady Gingerlily‘ features our friend Benor, who takes on a few small jobs in order to find a lost husband, to vet potential suitors for two young ladies, and to find a tenant for an empty house.  He begins to feel that things are getting out of hand when somebody attempts to drown him!

Jim has given you a taste of Port Naain in the delightful story The Eyes Have It below:

It was early evening and Benor was dozing quietly. Technically he was
reading but his eyes had closed in spite of his best efforts. He was
awakened by a rapping on the door of the barge. Shena, sitting nearest,

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The eyes have it!

Tallis Steelyard

2) the eyes have it

The story continues, yesterday with the Story Reading Ape, today with Stevie Turner.

It was early evening and Benor was dozing quietly. Technically he was
reading but his eyes had closed in spite of his best efforts. He was
awakened by a rapping on the door of the barge. Shena, sitting nearest,
opened it to admit a tall, well build young woman. Benor thought he
recognised her, but couldn’t put a name to her.
“Begging your pardon sir, but after meeting you at the house of the
Chevaleresse of Windcutter Keep I thought I’d seek your services myself.”
Now he’d been given a clue, Benor recognised her. “Ah, of course, you’re
Minny. You are the maid for the Chevaleresse.”
“Not any longer sir, I gave my notice a month since.”
Looking at her, Benor could tell. That was one reason he hadn’t recognised
the young woman. As Minny the maid…

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Dark Soil

Dark, and very delicious! Lovely stuff…

Pen of the Damned

Plunging, scooping, the sound of dirt sliding off each shovel as it’s tossed to the side. Another plunge, another scoop, more shoosh – the pile grows larger, the hole surrounding their boots deeper, the men more weary. The scent of dry dirt giving way to the earthy aroma of moist, dark soil.

Removing his cap and scratching his head, he asks, “‘Ere, guv, don’t you think this looks more than a bit odd?”

The other spits, digs, then replies. “Blood well is, son.”

Digging deeper, the dirt turning firmer, becoming more dense. Each shovel still plunging; a foot braced on the back lending force to the spade as it slides into hardened ground. Loose dirt scooped upon the belly of the trowel tossed above as it slips off the metal edge – the hole growing with each effort.

Removing his cap, wiping sweat from his brow, he asks, “Take a…

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Learning life’s lessons.

Tallis Steelyard

Learning life's lessons. Penelope Elias

It has to be said that education within the city of Port Naain is sporadic. Most people acquire some, but often we find out the hard way. One soon learns that there are certain people one does not offend, and certain back streets one does not linger in. Sometimes education includes literacy and numeracy, but these are gifts it often bestows on those who have learned the more dangerous lessons first.

Indeed within the city there isn’t really the concept of being a ‘teacher’ as a trade. The children of the wealthy will have a governess who does, as part of her role, teach them to read and write. The children of those less well heeled might aspire to attend a dame school or similar where a lady who has some education will attempt to share it with those whose parents can afford the small fee. But nobody ever trains…

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Skating on Thin Ice by @jacqbiggar #RomanticSuspense #NewRelease

Jacquie Biggar-USA Today Best-selling author

Skating on Thin Ice is Here!

This project began as a contemporary opposites attract romance, but it soon took on a life of its own and morphed into a fast-paced suspense instead!


Sam Walters has made a deal with the devil.

In order to win a much-needed contract as physical therapist to one of the NHL’s leading hockey teams, Sam must delay the recovery of their sniper, Mac Wanowski. The trouble is, the more she gets to know the taciturn hockey player, the more she aches to help him.

Mac ‘The Hammer’ Wanowski chased the Stanley Cup dream for too many years. Last time he was close it had cost him his wife. As injuries continue to plague the team, Mac works to catch a killer and keep the woman he’s come to love from the hands of a madman.

Hockey can be a dangerous sport, especially when millions…

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Words slip from my mind

On to the blank page in front of me

Yet their meaning fades in the air

I struggle to put the words back in place

Like a broken puzzle that doesn’t fit

The story I need to tell, lost

Like so many, I have let fall by the wayside

When will inspiration grip my mind

Give the story from beginning to end?

Something I can be proud of

To say yes, this is it

The one that will move mountains

break hearts, shed a tear over.

Publishers to fight over

Wouldn’t that be nice?

A story in waiting no longer…


Mauve-ing Morning

Peacock Poetry

I was really taken aback when I witnessed a dark purple sky on my walk to work in early January. I have walked the same route at the same time on hundreds of occasions throughout the years when suddenly I see this unusual indigo shade for the very first time. Yet another reason to not be complacent about nature’s riches.

Different Dawn

The morning mauve can mesmerise

It seeps between bare trees

Dark indigo the winter sky

On moody dawns like these

An ink-soaked stroke of depth and hope

Instils first light before me

The universe has cast its rope

And beckons to the raw me

No time to mull, hypothesise

The heady hues agree

The morning mauve can mesmerise

It seeps between bare trees

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