LUPUS IN FLIGHT

For seven years I have dreamed about and visualised walking among the plum trees with Thich Nhat Hanh in his exiled home of France. I cann...

Death is just a game of hide and seek Artwork by Jack Vettriano via  magpie tales Now you see me Now you don't Look for me ...

The face of desire is sometimes golden Not tanned, but glowing Sun kissed, from the root to the tip Expensive, knowing. Sometimes a ch...

Dearest Readers, for the next three weekends in July, my mother is opening her studio to exhibit her oil and pastel portraits... roll up! ro...

Floods in Cork, Ireland, power cuts in Ohio, USA, and all we long for, here in Blighty, is a little bit of sunshine flung our way. It comes ...

I am remembering  Magic from different times; Chiefs with golden crowns, Deities, raising fire, Bejewelled headdress of wrought tu...

When I was a little girl, I went riding, on holiday, with my brothers. We each had our 'own' horse - mine was a gentle beauty called...

The day before I shlepped back into hospital for my second round of monoclonals, I decided to bake a cake. Marian Keyes' brand new co...

The street parties continue unabated up and down the country, and the Mall is flooded with the sea of Her Majesty's men and women and ...

These few things I take with me A covering of moss, The colour of lime, And three forget me nots. They felled trees the other day T...