My Lady of Green and Growing Things
BY BERNADETTE FLYNN My Lady of Green and Growing Thingsyour time has come to slumber.Retreat back down – beneath the ground;next year’s growth to nurture. The hooves of the Hunt drum as they pass,and the Lord of the Lost he leads them.Over and down they race cross the ground;the Cwn Annwn before them. The Summer …...
Christmas – Shape Poetry
BY BERNADETTE FLYNN
Mist Laden morning, The Vague outlines of trees
Of Simpler Signs
BY BETH FLYNN
If the oak its bounty spreads,
and ‘cross the ground its acorns sheds,
then Winter bears a snowy shawl
of eiderdown, to blanket all.
The First Winter Snows
BY BETH FLYNN
The rich scent of woodsmoke lies thick in the air. The leaves have all fallen and the branches are bare.
Morality vs the Written Word
BY BETH FLYNN
A while back a question was asked in one of my writing groups and, as it’s not the first time I’ve seen a question of this nature…
Journeying In a Time of Isolation
BY BETH FLYNN
It would be an understatement to say that 2020 has somewhat changed our perception of ‘normal.’
The Commission
BY BERNADETTE FLYNN
“Ciao Gabriella,” I called, as I squeezed past the stack of blank canvasses blocking the doorway to the small office at the back of…
The Restorative Power of the Night (Night Bathing)
BY BETH FLYNN
The night frees our minds to process everything that we have experienced, from the smallest, most mundane task.
Of Stone, Antler, and Bone: Traditional Brythonic Shamanism and the Deer Mother
BY BETH FLYNN
Mother Deer patiently explained that it had been her time to die and go away for a time, but that no separation is permanent.
“So, What Do You Believe?”: Walking My Own Earth-Based Path
BY BETH FLYNN
These days, especially on social media, I often get asked the question, “So, what do you believe?”
