Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

Oh Yes, She Does

Many moons had been mesmerised by our memory,
hanging like docile mobiles in the sky,
awestruck as they watched us fall in love,
idealising the imperfections that disappear inside a kiss.
Remembering the sight of you, smiling up from sheets full of scandal,
I sigh, just as enchanted as the moon, by all that you are.

Let me write one of my stories,
on the softness of your trembling thighs,
violet lights are in this once dark room,
embrace me, and let me light up like the stars,
sunbeams bursting from my soul.

All that I can say, is that I am consumed.
Something about you has me on the hook,
holding me, happily, near or far,
led to your side, with just the recollection of our romance.
I will go to the ends of the Earth, and back again.

Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

What’s to be done?

My soulmate got lost in the sun,
her sapphire eyes could not resist the allure,
all over the place, for a time,
inked with my initials, when the clock struck midnight,
raised from the dead bedroom a dull life brings,
I watched her whisper my name, like a prayer, as she came to her senses.

Before I held the universe to ransom,
life was just a thing that happened to me,
and yet, as soon as I pointed a gun at the throat of fate,
clear skies, dry eyes and surprises surrounded me.
Kismet can be one hell of a provider, when she wants to be.

Long after the night ended,
over legions of land and oceans,
violet kisses, so sweet and soul consuming lingered upon her lips,
enchanted by my impatient hands and hungry soul,
so that she’d remember to hunt for me when the sun rose.

A mad girl is a determined girl,
so set on her dreams, that she can barely sleep to see them,
holding the clouds and smoke of the city in her hands,
linking them together, until she has something to rest her head upon,
inching closer to the wonders of escaping the waking world.

Honestly, I have been mad since the day I was made,
on the road to unravelling the second I started to breath,
like the blood covered lady of Inverness,
lost, like my lover, to the pursuit of power.
I’ve been told that she likes me like that,
senseless and spirited,
to her, dangerously devoted.
Everybody backs away, but she? She runs.
Runs towards me, her arms around me, because she’s never had it so good.

Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing


My life is a long and lucid tale,
happy and then hysterical,
always a different colour and flavour when I close and open my eyes,
I’m used to it, but I think you’ll need a little time.
Read my diary if you want the full story,
it’s just going to be a challenge to decipher my handwriting.

Let’s just suppose that we are bound to fall in love,
once parted but sewn together by the insistent fingers of fate,
voted cutest couple by the cooing moon,
enchanting total strangers with the all singing, all dancing drama of our romance.
Sounds… tolerable, right?

All I’m saying, is that it wouldn’t be so bad,
so why not us? Why not love?
Honestly, you and I have both done a lot worse.
Let me borrow your last name,
I like the sound of it.

Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

Mo Bhean

My sweet dream,

like a lilac sky, spied by hopeful lovers,

the softness of silk on exhausted skin,

the roaring, rapturous cries of the sea as she bows to the moon’s will,

a single poppy in a field of trauma.

You are my escape,

opiate opportunity,


endlessly adored by the one that you have enchanted,

and you smile, with no idea of the seismic consequences of such an action,

soft, stray strands of hair falling over your eyes,



Such a dangerous gaze you hold,

with no idea of the power that it wields,

and what it does to a poor girl like me,

that has never seen the likes of you before.

Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

My Dream Is Yours, Because It’s Yours and Mine

Your hand was full of hope, feeling unfamiliar in my own, but so necessary,
so satisfying, as if it was something that had always fit there, but had never made itself known,
and I kept your kiss and phone number on an old gum wrapper, because my mobile needed to nap,
after snapping so many pictures of us.

I met you on the metro,
just as you thought your world was falling apart.
Finding me isn’t a worthwhile consolation prize in my eyes,
but you seemed thrilled in a way I thought it was best not to argue with,
never choosing to trouble the tigers,
I left you to your lovesick lunacy, because I had plenty of my own to get on with.

My sweet girl,
sailing ships through busy cities,
never stopping for red traffic lights or the advice of old friends,
I am right behind you, on a boat of my own,
ready for you to board, whenever you get bored of being alone.