My treasured keepsakes bulge in pockets of time—rather moments—that are tucked hard against the bones of my heart. They remain as fresh and life-giving as the first-offerings of spring rosesbuds, tight with fragrance and bleeding of crimson that smears across my fingers as I pull them out one petal at a time. The edges are…
Tag: Travel
Roundstone, Ireland
Roundstone, Ireland I walked the stony beaches of Roundstone, Ireland, and stood under the shadow of the old lighthouse. The salty, icy Atlantic wind blew through to the heart of me. I saw the sun glistening upon lapping water pools by ancient, abandoned stone houses where Irish fisherman lived and died and sustained a generation…
Shaking Fists at You
Shaking Fists They’re shaking fists at you when the least little thing goes wrong. Prancing with chipped shoulders of entitlement, rising, gathering, hoarding and calling it their own. Fastly falling, they blame you for that too. Never pausing to consider or thank the source of strength or power or wealth or life itself. Yet you…
Hip Struck
Hip Struck I crave silence but not just any, rather the kind that slathers the soul like a soothing salve and leaves a blanket of protection, soft luxury upon the skin. The kind that penetrates the crusty rim and reaches the brittle reed within. Layers and layers of lanolin, silence swathes a path of healing,…
The Aspen
The Aspen Imagine being so long and lean, white and perfectly exquisite, captivating and beautiful — towering through the clouds that it became unnecessary to notice the leaves of your faces or the branches of your lovely arms, except in autumn, yes, except in autumn. ©Bonnie Saul Wilks all rights reserved …
Bonnie Saul Wilks 