Flames ignite the west
Gateway to a land of dreams
Otherworld awaits
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All books available in Paperback and for Kindle from Amazon. Click the images to find out more...With Stuart France
The Triad of Albion
- The Doomsday Series
- Lands of Exile
Graphic Novels
Finding Don & Wen
By Sue Vincent
With Dr G. Michael Vasey
Books by Stuart France
Silent Eye Workbooks
Steve Tanham
Copyright ©Sue Vincent 2019
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Latest Posts
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Absolutely beautiful 💜
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Thanks, Willow ❤
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💜
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This photo is wonderful. And so are your lines.
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Thank you, Sadje.
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You’re welcome Sue
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Hopeful days begin like this…
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And good days end like this 🙂 Either will do me 🙂
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Me too!
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Fabulous picture and haiku Sue.
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Thanks, Di… a lovely little bay on Anglesey…
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We have sort of fond memories of Anglesey…….. Hubby almost taking off with the tent as an under training hang glider, and Maggie on guard all night keeping the rats away as we’d pitched close to hay bales thinking it would shelter us from the wind. Apart from potty breaks and meal times, the following day she slept for almost 16 hours bless her. Love the serenity of your photo.
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I camped on the island too… all homeysuckle hedges and milk warm from the cow 🙂
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My aunt had a cow, and used to make her own butter. I was never asked to milk it though.
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I remember being tought by my farmer uncle when I was little 🙂
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Oh wow! Mine had chickens and I rubbed a freshly laid egg a bit too hard and the shell broke. I was only about 5 and mortified.
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Oh dear… Uncle Dennis had the full spectrum of animals… which was wonderful for a visiting child 🙂
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I remember the goose that was better than any guard dog, and it was my Aunt who took the shotgun and shot the fox…….
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My ex’s aunt just let me feed the goose before wringing its neck…
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ouch! Thats’s not a very nice memory for a child. Uncle’s goose was sacred.
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I wasn’t a child, thank goodness, by that time. And I have to say, he was delicious…
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That’s a relief!
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Not for the goose 🙂
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ha!!
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It’s incredible how many societies saw “west” as beyond the veil. The Cherokee thought the place known as “the darkening lands”, the place spirits go, lay to the west, similar to how the Egyptians felt about it. This poem reminded me of that sameness in our world outlooks.
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The symbolism of the ‘dying’ sun, being swallowed by the earth/monsters/night, seems pretty universal and these are the perfect examples of how symbols speak to us without words.
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