I’m Late

Past purple walls

Through darkness and untold rapture

Paralyzing beauty obscured by an ajar door

A skipping tune seeps with an ominous wind




Placing his hand upon the door

Feeling the presence of the girl inside

A slow creek

A still silhouette

Her blue dress stained

Skin white

A black bow contorts her skin

Perfection punctured

Needles thin

White eyes offer glazed expression

A whisper still upon her lips

Blue lips ooze with shining white

Nails imbedded into bed sheets

Her hand still grips onto bloodstained shards

If only he hadn’t forgotten

If only she could forget

Her love for him boundless

Yet lover’s whim tainted


His love for her but a memory

And yet remains her vacant stare

For love has past but life cannot go on

A metallic feel against his skull

A loaded gun makes the least sound

An empty barrel screaming

With bullets only a sound.



Never a rose without a thorn

Never beauty without a beast

Perfection never without a price

Only beauty that is free.

Beauty within the eye of the beholder

Musters beauty from within

Spread your wings and fly above

The ones lost that delve in sin.



Alone I sit in abeyant slumber

A wishful word seeps ominous breath

Under lines written yet never spoken

A messaged bottle sunk deep into darkness

A reflective glimmer to entice curious hands

Reach towards with bated wisdom

Take heed the muffled cries

A severed tongue speaks no warning

The shining light only grows more distant

Thrashing water quickly returns to still and calm

The perfect murder with hidden tracks

Another victim of the bridge

Awaits others yet to join.


Photo taken in City Bank, Cirencester.

Cirencester Church

The town of Cirencester is full of aesthetic wonders. The church remains the centre point, acting as a landmark and can be seen for miles, a way of guidance for visitors. I am quite proud of this image, I tried to capture its beauty and towering stance compared to its surroundings of parks and small high streets.




A quacking post for duck lovers:

“We like ducks… it quacks us up…” – Sascha Darlington

White Shadow:

A duck

A bill

Oh what a thrill

To be in luck

To be a duck


Eye of a Duck:

It’s the

Eye of the Duckling

It’s the thrill of the bill

Rising up to the challenge of our rivers


Obscured by Surroundings:

I wish I was noticed

I wish to be heard

A ducks life is simple

It’s one of a bird


Outmatched by Beauty:

I am a duck

So out of luck

This cold river

Makes my feathers shiver.

A swan gazes

But it is I who amazes

I am… a duck.


I hope you enjoyed 🙂


A point in time forgotten

The ripple folds a blank surface

For another to soil again

For others to feel in time

And others to dive under

To feel no cause

No effect

Just the gentle pull of the tide

This post is in response to Cee’s Photography prompt which can be found Here! I was so lucky to catch him taking a bite from a floating piece of bread, this is one of hundreds of pictures of ducks I have, I swear this is the last duck post!