Welcome to my blog, where I share stories, writing tips, inspiration, research, and whatever else sparks joy. Here, you'll find a little bit of everything from behind-the-scenes of my writing life to creative resources and random musings.
There’s a light in the distance
But I know not what it’s for,
It just appeared in the mist
As twilight settled.
The hazy blue-grey
Of mountains dressed in clouds,
Overshadows and hides
The origin of this pinprick glow.
Almost a speck-sized orb
To guide you through eventide’s haze.
***
Www.serrenwrites.wordpress.com
I walk along the side Of a hill well climbed: Out past the glen where the trees grow thick And tall And cover the path with dappled shade. Branches overhang with umbrellas of leaves Until you step out beyond, out the other side, Onto an open hill, Where you can stop and gaze at the land below. This land, a timeless land, It stretches out below- A patchwork of colour and fields and towns and roads, Where the river curls and meanders through, And you see the riverbank lit like copper’s glow, The mountains rise behind like shadowed ghosts. And to the side, atop a peak, A single, towering figure, Stoic and sleek, Yet as ghostly as those shadowy hills, The blue, misty giants, Like a cloak of low, thick clouds behind. I gaze below and wonder how this land would look unchanged from times of old, Hundreds or thousands of years before the scars of roads Were etched into its skin And the constant buzz of modern life, Of vehicles and industry, Obscured an untouched peace. These birds I hear And the bubbling of that waterfall, The trees, the sheep, the wind: How can we now enjoy these sounds of home country and nature Without the constant murmur of twenty-first century? With this meditative gaze and these wondering thoughts, The twilight draws in, And I can no longer distinguish the mountains from the sky As a thick blanket of cloud engulfs the horizon afore me. Such a strange softness- Bright, yet dim, too, on the eyes, And envelops this here land in a veil of grey, Preceding the black of night And marking my return to the modern life- Away from this hill, and back through the glen, Where the trees stand like sentries Who guard this hill, the place Where land and time stretch out together And merge in this timeless grace.
***
***
High Tide at Night
There’s something ominous about those inky black waters- I stand staring at them as the icy wind buffets around me. The dark and aggressive waves launch at the harbour walls, And smother the beach, hiding the rocks. All I can see of the waves are the pale frothing horses, galloping with wild, foaming mouths, And the rocks I clambered over earlier become lost to the murky abyss. I see no distinction between the night sky and the sea, Only a flashing orb of light in the distance To mark the position of an invisible island, To stop boats and tankers from joining the ship wrecks In those ominous, inky black waters.
There’s something ominous about those inky black waters- I stand staring at them as the icy wind buffets around me. The dark and aggressive waves launch at the harbour walls, Smothering the beach, hiding the rocks, under the shady abyss, And I only feel safe watching from the other side of the strong harbour wall.
***
