tiny glucose bombs all over the house, sweet on the tongue they pull back, they save. — life with t1
whilst my heart belongs to the sycamore tree, there is just something about the silvery scars of the silver birch that captures my heart. add moss and i am thoroughly captured.
Fairly close to where I live, is a gem of a greenspace called The Saltings. It is a favourite place of mine to walk and many of my poems are born here whilst walking—picture me making a mad dash for my car so that I can get to my notebook before I lose the thread... Continue Reading →
Some things are more beautiful simply because they are over. We survived them. And therein lies the beauty, and the relief. - Trials.