You have sewn stars to your sleeves.I talk about stars quite a lot (do I not?);You have sewn stars to your sleeves. by *kittykittyhunter
I’ve described them as stitches and grains of salt,
I’ve written of distance and said with a smile
That travelling through space
Takes a while.
I don’t need to go that far.
You, dearest, in the stretch of one stanza,
In the breadth of two heartbeats
Can dazzle the world.
Love and compassion thread through your verse:
Your sunshine brightens your words.
You have sown splendour where cracks used to meet.
I want to watch gardens grow at your feet.
the miracle isAnd I do not know this feeling in my lungsthe miracle is by *kittykittyhunter
only what it resembles:
nostalgia, creeping up from the depths
of a yesterday
(forgotten / lost)
tapping on panes with
seeping beneath the door.
But hardships pass
become embraces – fleeting,
trapped between the pages
of books with gilded sheets
and spines so strong that they are
The smoke disperses.
We are left with emotions
which heal and cleanse;
we wrap ourselves in golden love
remembered / found.
TurmericScene: A kitchen. JILL is mopping the floor, sprinkled with yellow spice. Rain is falling.Turmeric by *kittykittyhunter
[resting the mop against a counter] Oh, I never did like the rain. Thomas used to say that was the trouble with Britain no matter where you go, you can't escape these infernal monsoons. I expect that's why he went to India. [using a gruff voice] "You get some nice sunny weather out there." That's what he said.
[a clock chimes 1 o'clock]
Gracious! Is that the time already? I've got things to do. Lunch to put on the table. Mind you, if the Lady only agreed to eat a little earlier, I wouldn't have be cleaning [she ind
War StoriesMabel a widowWar Stories by *kittykittyhunter
Enid Mabel's sister
Sophie a young woman, Mabel's neighbour
Scene: A living room, appropriate for an affluent family living in England, 1928. Three women are knitting together.
Of course, it's thanks to my husband the others survived! Brave soul may he rest in peace
They'll never forget the debt they owe him! I was lucky to know him as long as I did. Those warm eyes! You remember, Enid?
CardigansWhen the world slowly rolled towards evening, I leant over the balcony railings and watched her stand in the communal garden, flat face uplifted, eyes closed as she basked in the sun’s last warmth. It could have been like the sinking star in storybooks – a brash vermillion – but it was always golden. Once my mother heard of my disappointment, she scoffed,Cardigans by *kittykittyhunter
“Life is rarely like a storybook.”
Those words did not leave me. In autumn, it brought me no delight to look for squirrels carrying fruit. In winter, I did not waste my time with searching for identical snowflakes. And in spring, which was the heaviest wi
fantasy.there are moments in the day when you become too aware of all the ordinary obstacles. like a bookshelf squeezed into an awkward space so that you smack your shoulder against the wood every morning as you leave your room; like the trainers strewn across the stretch of hallway so that you trip on your way to the door; like the welcome mat that slips and slides on the patio because it'll rain till noon. life is doing its best to impede you from progressing or getting out and that is the worst thing:fantasy. by *kittykittyhunter
you can never get out.