United Kingdom

• the true alchemists do not change lead into gold; they change the world into words •

Message from Writer

Just a sporadic writer who drinks too much tea


May 13, 2019


On a sunny day, all those years ago,
they went South for the weekend to

watch the sun swing across the amber
sky and the waves stroke the shoreline

with all the tenderness of a lover's touch.
New love burning in the pits of their

stomachs, they laced their fingers together
and marvelled at a single lark streaking

into song before them, struck by the
simple majesty of this tiny thing and its

wild, vibrant refrain. Years later, she would
tell me it was the last time she ever saw

a lark. Their homes left and they followed,
leaving only a whisper in the air and their

notes, captured in the ascending hum
of violin strings in flight.

She didn't know it then; she didn't
know so much. Perhaps if they had looked

deep enough into each others eyes, they
would have seen it all: the ring that she

still wears around her finger like a psalm;
a family with love enough to fill the

whole country as it grew; a half left behind.
But it couldn't have mattered, not that day.

They were young, the tide was high
and the world smouldered with promise.


See History
  • May 13, 2019 - 3:03pm (Now Viewing)

Login or Signup to provide a comment.

1 Comment
  • r|A|i|N

    stunning - i love the complicated sentence structure that accompanies the couplets. there are so many great sentences, but i particularly love “captured in the ascending hum of violin strings in flight” and “the world shouldered with promise”

    over 1 year ago