The scent now ethereal and seldom remembered, far away from its cause and even the consequences drift down the river of time affording a little more breathing room with every passing month. Yet jasmin arouses the essential woman, the one who cares not for the shape if the feeling be present. My unfaithful friend is remembered as I light a candle in my windowsill even though it is long past dawn. What a distinction, to be remembered from among those whom I call friends for the brand of disloyalty which marked my heart as surely as an iron brand forged and heated with hatred in the heart. And yet you loved me well.... I saw it myself and lived it day by day.
This morning early to light the wood in the stove, curlicues of steam from brewing tea and a comfortable armchair. Beyond the window spring has settled in well and the birds have been awake for hours. The only jarring note is a crocheted woollen cushion which has appeared all by itself on the armchair, I swear I did not put it there. Blue and yellow, with a hint of brown on the outer edge, lined in cotton.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
The still room
No, not a room which doesn't roam, nor usually a silent room. Mrs Beeton would have known at once not only what kind of room it is, al...
-
The Septagram is the symbol known as the “Seven Pointed Star.” It’s a particularly apt and powerful symbol for a complete planetary magick s... -
No, not a room which doesn't roam, nor usually a silent room. Mrs Beeton would have known at once not only what kind of room it is, al... -
The wheat has been harvested and the chaff lies still on the fields. The sun daily burns the plants with its heat and water is nowhere to be...
1 comment:
hi Andrea
many thanks for your comment
Bluebell x
Post a Comment