Comino in Autumn

Comino dips her toes
Into the sea
While froth-tipped amethyst
Rides high
Upon her knee
And brings her tidings
Of a distant shore. 

Comino is the small, barren island that lies between Malta and Gozo. During the summer, Comino's beaches are crowded with bathers, but the first rains of fall find her alone again. 

Comments

Post a Comment

I enjoy hearing what you have to say! You can comment using your Google, LiveJournal, WordPress, TypePad or AIM account. If you don't have any of those, you can simply fill in one or both boxes on the Name/URL option. Feel free to leave me a link to your own blog or website - I'm always looking for more good things to read.

Popular posts from this blog

Waiting

Brown earth, Waiting beneath its blanket of snow Waiting for the Sun to give it life, Waiting for the first soft glow Of Spring green. Waiting...
Read more

A Motley Crew

Image
July has been a good month for almost everything except writing. So, instead of trying to pull out a Bits & Snatches post from the scrawny bits of writing I have accomplished, I thought I'd introduce you to some characters from my two novels-in-progress...and give you a chance to better the acquaintance by letting me know which ones you'd like to hear more about. They're all a bit unruly, and some are rough around the edges and decidedly hard to like. But if you find yourself loving (or disliking) one more than the others, please let me know in the comments.  Then come back throughout the month for some fun character interviews and (who knows) maybe even a short story or two. Clemency Haunted by memories, hunted by nightmares come to life, Janus flees into a world of plots and secrets where her faith - and her sanity - are put to the test. - Janus Moore - I felt a hysterical giggle welling up inside of me. Unable to control it, I collapsed agai...
Read more

Chatterbox: We Were Not Born for Idleness

Image
The Inkpen Authoress posted this month's Chatterbox topic.  Passing the Time And since we had a power outtage and I couldn't work on the newsletter and it was still too early to go to bed...I sat down and typed out this bit of dialogue.  Vincent van Gogh We  were not   - Born - for  Idleness      Altan pulled out a battered chair and dropped astride it with her arms folded over the back. "It's said that King Marcellenus has declared war against Helmut of Angar."    "Again?" Baatar took a long pull at his tankard and drew the back of his hand across his mouth.    "Aye, well, he is but an upstart cockerel of a king."    "Determined to make a name for himself or lose his kingdom." Baatar snorted. "And the latter seems the most likely."    Altan shrugged. "Little care I for that. But both sides will be needing warriors."    "'Tis said that their peoples are on th...
Read more