Alexander Averin

Monday, 25 February 2013



There are many  writers-in-cyberspace;
words flow like a proverbial, perpetual
fountain but one poet- soul, a wise one,
who weaves his words with skill and feeling, said
that the shadows racing over sand were
thoughts that the land is having. I marvelled
at what seemed to me a revelation
for I live amidst mountains and am often
found watching shadows as they cross, soft-hued,
quiet and tender, covering and changing
the landscape in their wake, from dark to light,
from light to dark and back to light again.
Now  I imagine the land’s emotions:
the wind is its anger, the sun is its
benevolence, the breeze a tease, the snow  
its strong urge to hibernate and always,
always I shall see the rain as its tears.
From a penumbra in the poet’s mind,
something ghostly, insubstantial, half-glimpsed
and half-hidden, just an inkling of an idea
became pure poetry,transformed itself
and flew on a journey to me, through space,
reaching my mountainous place from the sea
inspiring me, from those  thought-shadows in the sand.

Cait O’Connor

Written in response to a poem  Shadows at Pics and Poems .





Tuesday, 19 February 2013

A Little Request

View from the Sugar Loaf on a Winter Sun Day

I am sorry that I haven’t blogged as much lately but my daughter and I have been busy working together setting up a website for a planned mother-daughter small business enterprise.
I would dearly love you to have a look at the site and give your feedback on it  as I really value your opinions and any suggestions you may have.  I won’t explain here how the business idea came about but all is revealed on the site.
This the link; Google is not picking it up yet as it only went live a few days ago.
Many thanks,

Monday, 18 February 2013

A book I think you would love

I have just finished this book; it's a first novel, it's a real page turner. 
On the back it says:
Family secrets
Big beaches
A story of unexpected life-changing love
I loved this book and would like to recommend it to you.

Friday, 15 February 2013

Sunday, 10 February 2013

Lenten Lilies


Lenten Lilies

(For Frances)


Ceramic, smooth and milky white

 a jug of promise holds green daffodils in bud.

They draw me in as I pass the table

but I cannot watch and wait

to capture such a slow changing.

I pass.

Days pass

in hope and anticipation,

I can only imagine what will be,

what will create a swift  lifting of  my heart

the gift that is a flower.

I will love each one

for its colour,

for its beauty,

for its scent,

for it is a miracle,

lenten like the lilies,

a promise to me, soon coming,


Cait O’Connor

Thursday, 7 February 2013





An old cottage that always welcomes you.

Flowing water, flowers, trees and a view.

A baby in the cradle and birds in the wood.

A dog, a cat, a hearth with logs stacked.

Books to lose myself within, words to weave.

Red shoes, Guinness, family and friends.

Health and happiness, music, kind words and hugs.

Compassion, understanding and sweet, sweet laughter.

Days of soft rainfall, wide rainbows, sunshine, sunsets.

Images of beauty, colourful and bright.

Voices of velvet, dreams and memories.

Candles, night skies, stars and silence.

The moon and its magic, fairies and the angels’ touch.

Nivea, perfume and a warm, warm, shower.

Earl Grey, goose down, poetry and sweet, sweet sleep.


Cait O’Connor

(Written in response to a blog by Pamela Terry and Edward).


Sunday, 3 February 2013

A Meme

A Meme


One of my favorite things is solitude.

Outside my window it’s dark;  a night owl’s delight.

I am thinking  detachment must be the order of this night.

From the kitchen come the sounds of silence and the distant echoes of a chime.

I am wearing layers and layers to keep me from the cold.

I am reading the life of Edna O’Brien who weaves her words with magic, beauty and mysticism.

I am hearing a voice, a sigh.

I am hoping all will be well.

Around the dimming room are swirls and curls, reflections from the bamboo shades.

I am going to linger awhile on my creation.

I am creating a dream,

I am thankful  every moment for so much, so much, so much.

Here is picture thought I am sharing.


Do share your thoughts in words and pictures too.


Saturday, 2 February 2013

Two Poems

Poetry is an echo asking a shadow to dance
Carl Sandberg

Dear Diary,
I have discovered a poet, a writer I hadn't heard of even though she is from round these parts.  I borrowed one of  her books from the library and unusually for me with poetry books, I loved every one of the poems within this one.  Have you heard of her I wonder?  Chris Kinsey. She was BBC Wildlife Poet of the Year in 2008 and lives in Wales.  She is also a rescuer of greyhounds though Greyhound Rescue Wales and a commissioned sequence of poems Houndlove was included in Poems of Love and Longing (Pont Books, Gomer Press, 2008). Chris Kinsey has been dubbed ‘Greyhounds’ Poet Laureate’
These two just right-for-this-season poems are from her book I borrowed,
 Cure for a Crooked Smile 

One February Night
To appease a hunger
brought on by reading about snow
I start making porridge.
Sensing the wolf in the blizzard
I watch my dogs asleep at the hearth,
muzzles twitching, honing dream scents.
I stir till the pelt thickens,
scatter almonds and pumpkin seeds,
twirl in honey and lick the swell.
Wind snuffles at the door
snowflakes scratch softly
icicles drool.
Chris Kinsey

When the New Year rolls over on dark mornings
I wonder how much is coaxed
by moon’s second-handlight?

Snowdrops appear after the first full circle
as if the force which tugs tides, sucks white
up their stalks, draws them on to swell and drip.
This play of pearling

sets the birds rehearsing
long before dawn.
The moon wanes; snowdrops open wing-nuts
on a bit more day.  By the big, mirror-moon,
of Candlemas, they’ll still be hanging parachutes.

Courting birds will chorus light.
Last February flood, bubbling curlews
waded through quicksilver midnight.
Chris Kinsey.