my hiding space???...

in my mind

I am hiding

I let friendly leaves

be my costume

my mask

in my secret space

I can watch

the watcher

but if you move

I fear 

you see me

I know

I sense

in your mind

you see me

a flight of white clouds...

 

a flight of white clouds

shaping and re-shaping

random connections

I see memories

my furball closely watching

as she used to be

wings wide open

a gift from friendly angels

a waiting embrace

after the silly season passes...

after the silly season passes I intend to exchange my frustrating 'to do' list for an ever evolving exciting date with my 'to be' list #tanka

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— Gemma Wiseman (@gemma77.bsky.social) 15 December 2024 at 15:25

feathered thieves...

there are thieves in black or adorable, cheeky cute frustrating screechy thieves in white #tanka

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— Gemma Wiseman (@gemma77.bsky.social) 15 December 2024 at 12:05

cautious sketching...

a year ago today

I returned to a little cautious sketching

it's been awhile

quite awhile

(back in the days when my children were very young

I wrote

and illustrated

stories for them)

for now, I tend to sketch

(and sometimes paint)

in fractured blocks of time

my confidence has fragile limits

above all

I do not wish to copy

an image

a style

or even underlying ideas

of others

my writings

(especially my poetry)

and my photography of unusual

scenes or perspectives

are my sources of inspiration

 

if that fails

sleepless nights can be quite useful

as may be a second cup of coffee - no sugar

and so it could be

that my writing, my sketching or my paintings

may require a second glance

if you wish to tune in to my songline

of something different

P.S.

I am still dabbling - but progressing in regularity 

and cautious confidence

 

self-imposed prison...

self imposed prison hiding from pressurised heat reminiscing awakening to so many undervalued gifts given me at some stage in my life gifts I did not want at the time even found some cruel but now I realise I needed those old heartaches to be the stronger identity I am now #micropoetry

— Gemma Wiseman (@gemma77.bsky.social) 14 December 2024 at 12:11

a touch of Christmas tears...

 

there is a sadness in 

a lone figure

quietly walking 

an old, winding track

treading

the shadows

beneath overhanging branches

beneath tangled trees

beneath a pot pouri

of filtered light

there is a particular sadness

when you have known that figure

for quite some years

and this, his moment

returns at Christmas time

he told you once

that you were his peace

his first and only peace

in life

those words soothe

all the sharp pain of old questions

and what is left is

a precious thought

perhaps we were meant to be together

for a space of time

we gave each other a gift

hopefully he has his eternal peace 

I have his strength

his drive to test out creative ideas

and his deep love of animals

and now

it is time 

for me to move on

P.S.

André Léon Marie Nicolas Rieu is a Dutch violinist and conductor. He has been playing a medley of songs this morning.

He has just begun playing Somewhere My Love...we'll meet again someday... 

I think I have just received a wonderful Christmas gift from the Universe...