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she sits in her secret garden, |
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gazing up at the moon and stars |
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staring loneliness in the face; she hears a sound, it's her youngest son calling out to her: mum, do you know where my trainers are? followed by her eldest: mother, did you know we're out of milk....! |
the dog barks: you do realise you promised me a walk!? she shrugs and wanders out into the world
Comments
PS I love the reflection of your legs holding up the quilt in one photo! funny!
and the story 'came' to me whilst walking the dog this morning, as so many good thoughts do (a good time for effortless thinking is walking, so too is having a shower) again thank youx
i keep emailing you with the address for the stones but mail keeps getting returned as undeliverable....?
i have billions different kinds
they need someplace to go
my email is saskiavanherwaarden@gmail.com
I must have misspelt it, because we recently changed providers and things got mixed up
Oh Grace: you say billions....I have collected beads since I was a young girl and have always used them, I use them for the amulets and I have indeed used them in this piece as well
Nancy: yes it is at the same time an escape from 'it all' and a looking at where I am right now
We are stardust, we are golden,
we are billion year old carbon,
And we got to get ourselves back to the garden.
Your work reminds me the song, I must go find the lyrics.