The Moon and Trees

House of Heart

Beyond the terrace
I pace barefoot through
the garden past the blurred
flowers that bend their petals
as though they know me.
Brilliant in the starlight
the old tree stands apart
as if  having outgrown the
rest it needs space.
It sighs to the song of a breeze
limbs reaching to the sky.
I wonder if it has eyes
to hold such history.
I feel it is friends
with the moon
I  hear them laughing at us.


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Expression tulips

Shari Blaukopf's Sketchbook

I love testing out new papers. I received a small sample pack of Hahnemühle Expression watercolour paper in the mail today, so I tried it out by sketching the tulips on my kitchen counter.

The surface of the paper is a little harder than a Fabriano, which is what I usually use to paint flowers, but it’s still beautiful to draw on in pencil. It’s not overly textured which means it should take an ink line fairly well too. It takes paint beautifully, and the colours remain vibrant. The washes stay wet for a long time, allowing me to drop more colour into areas that are still damp. And it’s good for lifting. All in all a two thumbs up from me.

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Daily Quote

Jo Hawk


Even when we know where we are going, the path can be circuitous. Detours, roadblocks, washouts, and fallen bridges block the direct path. The going isn’t easy. We find ourselves unprepared, short on supplies, lacking the right password, and despair threatens to consume the last of our resolve.  We cling to hope’s faint light and push forward.

Having goals is imperative. I compare the path to Joseph Campbell’s structure of the hero’s journey. The goal is set, we answer the Call to Adventure, travel the Road of Trials, descend into the Abyss, experience the Supreme Ordeal. I know the story isn’t complete, everyone is waiting for our hero to prevail against the odds.

Where are you on your hero’s journey?


Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

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Trusting the trysts with truth

Savvy Raj

As we dance through the apparition of appearances

Of assumptions in the amalgamation.

All that is real may be an illusion

All that we believe to be is perhaps real.

And our tryst with the truth…


Savvy Raj

Evey rememberance has it’s own take of perspectives…

Today reading another poem by a wonderful fellow blogger Didi, and I remembered this para from my earlier poem Tryst with the truth.

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Thoughts of You


Thinking of your Smile
Even now it makes me Laugh
Bringing lots of Sunshine
Such warm Thoughts
Toast my Heart
Each time I Think of You
So many Fond Memories we Share
There is so much History
There is no Mystery
It’s Like it was Meant to Be
I Rejoice…
Giving Thanks Always
That our paths Aligned and Crossed
There is No Greater Love❤️
I Praise your Name

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