Monthly Archives: May 2013

Fare Well

Fare well then

fair-weather friends, and may

God go with you to those

Elysian Fields where

green is a new colour,

fresh-minted, staining

knees and souls in

equal measure.

Snow Stalker

Snow Stalker

Hearing a noise I
stalked through thin snow but
found nothing except my
own shadow.

Folded Light

Folded Light

Darkness folds light into the
letter posted through the
slit in your morning curtains.



The heart collapses suddenly,
evaporates in front of
embarrassed neighbours and
startled passers-by.

No One Was Talking

No One Was Talking

It was getting dark
no one was talking
or listening and
even the raindrops were
keeping themselves to themselves



The wrecked spaceship exists
only in the atmosphere of the

In Whose Sky?

In whose home am I an

unwelcome guest, loathed but

impossible to evict?

In whose life am I the

grit that didn’t produce the

longed-for pearl? In which

graveyard am I a spectre,

unhouseled, disquieted,

preceeded by candles?

In whose sky am I a

mere speck of light?


The Leaf Drives the Tree

It’s the leaf that drives the tree,

all that burly strength

burrowing into earth and air,

as deep as high, all that

hydraulic heavy-lifting just to

unfurl a wafer of green, amber, red

in the hope that it helps the

gargantuan whole survive

bare, bleak Winter.



It was just a small cut, a

shiver of slow-moving pain, a

dull throb really, with

very little blood, just

little beads on a

bright new bracelet

worn in her private

Princess time.


Mangoes and Lemongrass

I feel you peel yourself unwillingly from my back,

hear your soft pad, the

shower starting, the

muffling of its noise as  your

body intercepts spray, your

soft humming of a

nameless tune, the water’s

modulation as you bend for that

gel that smells of

mangoes and lemongrass.


I wake to the soft “shush’ of a drawer, the

clip-clip of a bra, the

hush-hush of shoes, the

bristly rush of hair

being brushed, the gentle

indentation of the bed turning

lips to loving lips, the quiet

snick of the door, the

taste of your lipstick, the

lingering scent of

mangoes and lemongrass.


Sara in LaLaLand

Welcome to my world.

LittleSwitchBitch - An Irish Lass blogging about all things sex

Irish Sex Blogger • Lover of Kink, Lingerie, Strong Coffee & Sunshine •


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