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  • Indian Summer

    The land before me breathes its final sigh of summer, caught between what was and what is to come. The leaves, not yet fully turned, whisper the promise of change, as though the very earth is pausing to acknowledge both an ending and a beginning. The days shorten, slowly, slipping toward autumn, yet I cannot…

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  • Empty Pages

    Pulled through the mist of time, unwritten pages of my time in Orkney laid open from the book like the slow turn of a tide pulling something long forgotten to shore. In an afternoon storm, I hear a whisper in the wind that seems to know my name. It comes from the land of standing…

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  • Cup Of Growing Pains

    Coming to terms with my own codependency and addiction feels like pulling a splinter from under my nail. I had forgotten how painful it was, how numb I had become to the constant ache. But now, as I start to pull it out, every memory, every feeling, and every emotion trapped in that tiny sliver…

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  • Treasure of my heart.

    It is a distant mist where I once roamed; I never found a home.Now, the hills and sea are only a memory.Yet the girl who walks among them and saw me is still in my mind’s prison and my heart’s fire, burning with the longing for her presence. In my memory, her laughter is an…

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  • Unwritten Pages.

    A silent yearning echoes through a window of time when I feel you from my presence, as if I left and lost a part of me and what I love. To whom do I write? Only my heart knows when the twilight hours whisper secrets, of a dance between dusk and dawn as dreams drift…

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  • An Echo, We Dream

    Misty morning dawns in the forest, a place where ancient oaks reign and magic lingers. Amidst the shadows stands a spirit, breaking free from fear’s grip. With courage and determination, she finds her voice and tells her tale of triumph over darkness. As the bard weaves her story, history comes to life and the echoes…

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  • Orkney Dry My Tears

    Amidst the whispering winds of Orkney’s shores, I find myself entangled in a web of woes. Time, a relentless thief, has brought me here, Yet my soul remains shackled by fear. CPTSD, a thorn haunting my days, Weaving tendrils of terror in hurting ways. Though this land holds promise, serenity profound, I am but a…

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  • Today this Bard, has received news, that will translate in a story, for now the Bard, is reclaiming het strength, vitality and sanity, for this story is one for the books. The story of Aislinn, who reclaimed her power after her trauma, as she knows, it does not have to be a life sentence to…

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  • It was not planted, but on a balter winter’s day, I slid my wheels off the ferry on a stranger’s land, where I was not meant to be. The wrath of Orkney is one of stranded departures and arrivals, forcing the vagabond to stay a little longer. Just long enough to see the first flower…

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  • Frozen Hope

    With one step bound to wander, stuck on the crossroads ahead, as memories of the past are one of holding hands, the feeling goes back to our last dance as I feel the memory. Numbness sets in, I’m trying not to feel the past, folding my hand in the icy snow and cradling myself on…

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