Love Lost

Love Lost…

Fading Light of a dying Sun

Barely burning embers remain

Burnished fingers of red and gold

Reach into the beckoning darkness

To find only cold,empty arms of night

Memories, like the day, fade away

Eily Nash (2020)

Eily Nash

The End of the Affair

You played your game…

Played it well.

I fell under your beguiling spell.

Did you hope to hurt me

By the silence of your heart?

Was that your cruel intention from the start?

Your unsaid words

Speak loud and clear

There is nothing left to say

I have no tears to shed

I will walk away, head held high

And keep your secrets,

My dignity and my pride

Goodbye, My Lover, Goodbye.

A Haiku

My dear friend, poet and writer, Randall Wiley has been telling me about the art of Haiku. Here is one of his simply sublime pieces ❤️

Poetry of you

To write the perfect haiku

I could never do 🌹

#haiku

Follow my multi talented friend on Twitter

Song of the Nightingale

My Soul whispered lyrics for you,hearing the words a gentle breeze carried them to the trees. Their rustling leaves became my music. A Nightingale heard the soft sounds. His sweet voice sang to the magic of the Night.

And somewhere, far away, you heard a little bird sing of my Love for you…

Eily Nash ~2020

Love Heals All

She had a special way to soothe his Soul. Velvet words, wrapped in silk, the Truth fell upon his hungry ears. With a magic touch, his woman eased his fears. Was it witchcraft, he never knew. She smiled, for her power was so much more than the arcane arts. She knew Love heals all.

Eily Nash -2020

The Last Waltz

From somewhere far away

I hear the music play.

Valse Triste.

Sibelius’ notes sing a song

of a love that has died.

You have gone so far away,

leaving me beneath the stars

to dance the Last Waltz,

all alone with nothing more than

fragments of fading memories…

Eily Nash ~2020

Sensuous Ink

I am delighted to share a beautiful, sensuous poem from my dear friend and talented Writer & Poet. Enjoy, Dear Readers, the magic of Randy Writes…

From the shadows 
She appears 
Kissed by moonlight 
Wearing a gown  
Spun of silken words 
Her curves caressed
 By his story which covets
 Her flesh in a poetic aura 
Of sensuous ink 
Illuminating her unparalleled beauty  & timeless grace

Randall Wiley (2020)



Image by prettysleepy1 from Pixabay

FOLLOW RANDY ON TWITTER FOR SOME FABULOUS POETRY & GREAT TWEETS!

Secret Smiles

They look and wonder

At the mystery of us

…And we smile

Secret smiles

For who could tell

Of a Love that crossed

The eons and ages of man

All dimensions of time

It is only when night falls

The Truth is revealed…

For the story of you and I

Is written in the ink of eternity

Only the Sky knows of

Gods who walk amongst men

Yet sit upon Star Strewn thrones.

Eily Nash ~2020

Every Line

You are mine yet I never speak your name, just wear it like a charm wrapped around my heart. Love lives and breathes between the notes of my songs. Your essence, fleetingly moves through rhyme and verse, your eyes shyly smile at the World hidden behind a veil of my poetry. I write you into every line.

Eily Nash ~ 2020

Nicole Wild

It is my great pleasure to introduce my Dear Readers to a very talented Author and Poet, Nicole Wild. As an INFJ, her work is so very deep and enriched with emotional intelligence. Nicole is part of the fantastic team of WALLIS & WILD, the powerhouses behind BLOODREDSTAR PUBLICATIONS. I have been honoured to have my own work featured in their Anthologies, along with other gifted Writers.


Click to follow Nicole Wild on her

*Amazon Author Page*

and on WordPress

*Unchained Literature*

You. 
The absence calls so I evade, 
a dance within my soul. 
The words get stuck and I can't speak 
because I don't feel whole. 
Blue has put the fire out. 
Red has left me cold. 
I miss my love, I miss my friend,
I dream of times of old. 
I wonder if he's warm tonight?
If winter met his gates? 
I wonder if he's happy? 
Drains me until I break 
I know his routine, where he is... 

Ugh, for goodness sake! 
So I choose to dance in circles 
Cuz this grief
I cannot take.

~Nicole Wild (2020)

“Wrapped Up” is Nicole Wild’s first novella. Click the Amazon link to preview inside, my review is below. I HIGHLY recommend this superlative observation of interpersonal relationships.

 


Having read Nicole Wild’s poetry anthology ‘Once Unchained’ I was excited to read her new book. I was not disappointed and read in one sitting. She has taken the themes of unbearable loss, pain and grief and the search for integration and meaning making, weaving them into a searingly honest and poignantly beautiful love story.

Ellie’s world has closed into a lonely and grey place. She is unable to process the Soul rending loss of Ricky, the love of her life. Retreating ever inward and away from the noise of the world, continuing alone is an unbearable burden. Enter the enigmatic Kain with his promise of sweet release. Dare Ellie open her heart to love again or will the shadow of Ricky forever walk by her side?

An excellent read. Nicole Wild writes with such rich descriptive detail, she absolutely gets the depth psychology of the human condition. I was totally immersed. And the ending…I will not spoil it for you, but it was so incredibly, sensitively written and I cried.

Eily Nash

 And as well as appearing in other Anthologies, Nicole Wild has her own collection of beautiful and emotive poetry. Please click the Amazon link to take a peek, and again my 5* review is below.

The last line in this gorgeous anthology reads ‘We write to heal our souls’. My goodness, how through her poems, the author takes the reader on a journey, through the emotions that flow through the human heart. Her words are poignant, delicate, strong. And throughout you hear the call of an incredibly beautiful soul. I absolutely loved this book. Highly recommended.

Eily Nash

FOLLOW THE LOVELY NICOLE ON TWITTER

I Really Like A Happy Face

My most loved Singer/Songwriter is the amazing Penny.

Download for free her mesmerising and hypnotic music.

This particular song feels like warm waves washing over my tired Soul.

I simply love this woman.

https://soundclick.com/r/s8e8o5

Lyrics

Hush now maybe my lips won’t breath again

Whispering echoes to the walls within

Pain is swarming through stripping color from my eyes

I really like a happy face when I can’t seem to smile

Dawn is coming scraping at the night

Broken wings and love that stings burning inside

Halo falling at my feet wounded butterfly

Embers spreading through three tears fall from my eyes

No love will hypnotize me

I am stone and ash my hearts been petrified

No one will ever find me

Desperate and hanging on

No one will ever feel my heart

No one at all

No one will ever find me

Desperate and hanging on

No one

Hush now maybe I’m afraid to let you in

I bear the dagger that you held in your hand

Stains and broken truth digging deeper inside

I really like a happy face when I can’t seem to smile

Midnight haunting every heart that weaps and crys

Choking melodies fading with the rhyme

No you will never find me

Weaker than the storm

No you will never find me

All alone

No one will ever find me

Desperate and hanging on

No one will ever feel my heart

No one at all

No one will ever find me

Desperate and hanging on

No one

Hush now maybe I have given in

Tormented and frail from all the pain

Waiting way too long

I just want to cry

I really like a happy face when I can’t seem to smile

Dawn is coming scraping the night

Broken wings and love that stings burning inside

Halo falling at my feet wounded buteerfly

Embers spreading through three tears fall from my eyes

I really like every face

I can’t seem to smile

Oh No one will ever find me

Desperate and hanging on

No one will ever feel my heart

No one at all

No one will ever find me

Desperate and hanging on

No one

Oh

Oh

Oh

Oh

Oh

© Penny’s Scar @ Scarlet shadows

Follow Penny on Twitter for more of her sensual poetry, lyrics & song links

Snowflakes

Mesmerised by the beauty of a falling Snowflake, he caught her in his hand.

Trusting, the little Snowflake lay in the warmth of the man’s palm.

Slowly she melted to nothingness.

He smiled …

…and just put out his hands to catch more Treasures falling from a giving sky ❄️

Eily Nash (2020)

Falling Leaves

It is mid Fall, I am watching from a window above, leaves of gold and brown, gently dancing down. They lay one by one upon the cold, hard ground, creating a carpet of Love beneath the bare branches they were once part of, and I cry for the beauty of it all.

🌿🍁🍃🍂 Eily Nash.

Succubus Spell

woman girl lips hair
Photo by Adrianna Calvo on Pexels.com

 

I loved him well, I loved him true

Something he just could not do

For to lay with me would be a sin

I knew he longed to touch my skin

Yet he kept me so far out of reach

Scared his defences I may breach

Passion’s flame burnt in his chest

Lustful thoughts gave him no rest

At last, of free will he came to me

Torn, tormented by his own misery

My beloved Mortal slipped into my bed

Offering his body, I took his soul instead

And down we went to the depths of hell

For he had fallen for a Succubus spell.

Eily Nash (2020)

Come visit my Amazon Author page 🙂

Shame.

A personal note.

I have had a difficult week.

Shame on you.

Who do not know what I do…

Give more than I ever take.

And you?

Shame on you.

My Soul shines bright

For I bring Light.

You?

Go look.

Question

Ask

You would come at me?

Righteous retribution will hit you and your mendacity.

Wait and see….

Heat of the Night

A sneak preview of a Chapter from a manuscript I am working on…

KIMBER

I’m home alone. Again. Husband is in NYC. Again. He’s a frequent flyer, goes where the money flows, London or New York. Right now it is a tidal wave flooding back to Papa across the East River from his latest project. Who knew Manhattan money would actually want to cross the Brooklyn Bridge? He did. Has a sixth sense for seeing potential. Where others can’t see beyond the raw product, Richie sees polished perfection. From his vantage point on the 95th floor of our Midtown Penthouse, he has 360 degrees views across the City and Central Park. GreenPoints caught his eye. All those rundown old warehouses lining the waterfront, battered and bruised, he raised them from the ashes of dilapidation like a Phoenix, reborn into something wonderful and new. Once given the full Richie treatment, hiding their humble beginnings, the luxe new apartments began enticing buyers hungry for a bite of the Big Apple’s property boom. Richie has a magic touch. He likes fixing things and then moving on. He did that with me. I was a waitress in a cocktail bar…you get the picture…

So my man is a mere 3455 miles away. Separated by the Atlantic ocean, a mere five hours time difference. Nothing compared to the gulf between us. I’m here in our Park Lane penthouse looking out over London. Richie likes high living, literally. Our homes are a statement to how he sees himself, a property magnate on top of the world. I step out onto the terrace clutching a glass of Veuve Cliquot, watching night falling. The twinkling  lights of the West End are enticing for anyone with an itch to scratch, looking to find the heart of a Saturday night. And I’m here. All alone. Longing to be all dressed up with somewhere to go. 

I’m inside looking out and laugh at the irony of people outside looking in. Window shopping. Wanting what I got. Don’t let it fool you. The glitz soon wears off. Only so many Manolo’s you can line up next to your Birkin bags and  all your Chanel, Dior and Armani clothes hanging in your custom walk in closet. Envy from some, aspiration from others. Looks can be deceiving. Beware what you wish for, I want to say to them, go read the tale of the ‘Emperor’s Nightingale’ then tell me you want what I got. Don’t you see it in my eyes that I want to be free…I want to be me. Don’t envy me. I ain’t got what you got, freedom. 

My iPhone kicks into life, incoming Skype call from the man himself. I tear myself away from the enticing lights dancing on water and answer. 

“Baby Girl! “ 

I detect he is a touch too bright. Slate grey eyes, holding more than a hint of steel forged in a foundry of darkness somewhere north of midnight. Shutters down, the demon hiding in those dark depths did not choose to be seen tonight. 

“Miss you baby love,” I coo making sure he sees I am wrapped in my silk dressing gown. I slide it open. He doesn’t bite. I know he is not alone. He’s all dressed up with somewhere to go. I can’t see the bitch but can smell her. If she isn’t next to him she soon will be. I act like I don’t know. I’m not acting if I were to confess I don’t care. 

“Got a deal to seal, baby girl, heading over to the Upper East Side in 5.  How’s my Kimber?”

“Good, missing Papa Bear!”

“Love you. Call you in the morning.”

I call the dog over and make sure he sees us snuggling on the couch, watching the wall hung TV on Netflix. Satisfied he hangs up. 

I have an itch. I’m going to scratch it. 

In less than half an hour I’ve changed into a barely there dress and the most killer heels I can find. I shake my long blonde hair free from the  confines of the tight chignon he likes and replace the elegant pink pearls gracing my ears with gold slut hoops. A dash of Chanel Rouge Allure on my lips and a lick of black eyeliner, heavy coat of mascara. A line of Coke, a blue pill and I am good to go. 

A quick call and an Uber is on the way. It’s not the night to take my Bentley out. Not the part if London Town I am heading. 

“Don’t wait up, Mama’s going to be late!” I stroke Kimber’s sweet little Bichon Frisée fur and head for the door. I have an itch to scratch.

The nightingale has wings and she is going to use them, taking flight into the heart of the night… 

©Eily Nash (2020)

Enjoy my writing? You can find my books on Amazon 🙂

amazon.com/author/eilynash

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Walk Away

She felt the absence of his heart

Long before he even realised she had gone.

Walked away …

Silently closing the door on the place

Where love did not live anymore.

Eily Nash (2020)

Photo by Luis Quintero on Pexels.com

A Poet’s Pen

The Poet took his words formed from delicate, silken strands of silver and gold, weaving them deftly into the heavy blanket of my infernal night. My Soul had grown cold, now the warmth of his Love wrapped me in Light.

Eily Nash (2020)

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Eternal Night

Falling. Falling. Soft embrace of the velvet deep calling, calling. Leave far behind shores of pain. Warm waves of oblivion sweeping it all away. No need fight it, hurt never felt again. Down, down to sleep in endless seas of eternal night. And so I sleep…

© Eily Nash

Evermore

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“I will always love you…”

A lonely heart cried out to the stars above as night came riding in, for she thought there was no one else to hear.

The Moon felt the pain of loss ripping through the ethers from a Soul searching, hoping, longing. She replied on the song of the wind.

‘Your Beloved is here in heaven with me, just a whisper away, in the place Love lives for evermore…Look!’

A shooting star blazed across the sky.

Tears fell.

Gifts of Light

adolescence attractive beautiful blur
Photo by Matheus Bertelli on Pexels.com

Her gift was of the Soul, in her hands she held healing Light.

Her Heart a home for the lonely, the broken and those who lost their way.

She knew, with time and tender care they would dare to love again. Walk free from the brutal chains of shame and pain that bound them to the past.

They would no longer be fragmented, but healed and whole.

Ready to the embrace the dawning of a brand new day.

There were those who called her an Earth Angel. She would shake her head and smile. For there was no need for them to know the tears she shed alone or the scars she hid, or that the Gifts of Light were forged in a foundry of her own pain.

Eily Nash

Two Swans

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Once upon a time there were two swans.

Both lustrous, beautiful and filled with light.

One was called Diamond, the other Crystal.

Life knew it had the power to break one, but not the other.

Diamond was beautiful with an inner strength that surpassed Steel.

Crystal was a fragile beauty. If she broke, she would shatter into a myriad of pieces.

For one could withstand what the other could not.

Wisdom whispered to Life ‘Be kind’ …

Eily Nash ~ 2020

Queen of Witchery

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A golden crown upon my head

Clothed in a gossamer gown

I sit upon a silver throne

My palace is my heart’s home

I have no subjects, I am all alone

All cares, burdens, concerns unladen

For others sins, I have long atoned

From skies above the Goddess looked down

Upon her broken and lost Handmaiden

The Lady in Her mercy revealed to me

Her Majesty and Secrets of alchemy

Now I preside from the seat of my soul

I am healed and whole.

Queen of all Witchery

Eily Nash ~2020

 

All Alone

high angle shot of a person walking alone in the desert
Photo by Alex Azabache on Pexels.com

All alone…

I held the hurt, I held the pain and all their sorrows

I saw such horror, and tears that fell as bitter rain

I stood tall, whoever they were, I Protected them all

All alone…

With rocks and stones began building my fortress home

Wanting to shout, wanting to yell but who could I tell

I was not living, I was burning in hell

All alone…

The dreams shook me from my sleep

Mind Movies, play again, they never cease

There is no peace, the trauma runs too deep

All alone…

One dark day the storm clouds came riding in

I looked down from the Tower I had built so high

The edge of a precipice, I fall or find my wings and fly

All alone…

Saturated by sorrow, I could hold no more

My Tower was now a prison and not a sanctuary

I had lost the key and was afraid to open the door

All alone…

My broken heart began to race, tomorrow I could not face

I believe an Angel of Light heard the calling of my Soul

On wings of Love she took me to blue skies above

No longer alone…

I was in a diaphanous castle in the Sky

The answers to my questions, all the reasons why

All the brutality, needless deaths and goodbyes

No longer alone…

A Lady of infinite beauty listened patiently as it all poured out

First a whisper and then a shout. Kindness too much to bare

The dam burst, I saw in her eyes such tender love and care

No longer alone…

Reflected in the eyes of the Goddess of all Humanity

I saw such deep empathy, compassion and love…I saw me!

I saw the rhyme and reason, watched my life unfold

She whispered my story needed to be told

So those walking a Protector’s path far from Home

Know they are Divinely Protected and NEVER alone

For we come from Love and will return to Love. Only Love is real.

Eily Nash ~2020

Summer Love

summer garden leaf blur
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Blessed by blue skies on a sultry Summer day, I lay upon a lush green lawn in my English Country garden. The scent of Honeysuckle and Jasmine hang sweetly on the air, blending with Roses and Lavender. Such delicate fragrances delight the senses. They are dancing to the soft calling of birds and the low humming of nectar gathering bees. A Ray of Light playfully glints through rustling Beech Tree leaves and I watch Swifts riding the breeze. So high, soaring to the edge of blue. Soft caresses of sunlight are kissing my skin.

I close my eyes and dream of you.

Eily Nash ~ 2020

Bones of Carrion

selective focus photograph of black crow
Photo by Tom Swinnen on Pexels.com

…And so they come to feed, like raptors on your flesh until you are no more than the bones of carrion. You did not see them for what they were, until it was too late. Behind innocent eyes a deep sea of jealousy lies. There is no kindness in words that cut the fabric of a soul.

Eily Nash ~ 2020

✨My books are available as Paperback & Kindle editions from Amazon✨

 

Enigmatic Eyes

grayscale photo of persons hand on typewriter
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She was a Writer, weaving stories around the emotions she read in others. He was a charming enigma. Eyes, deep as the cold North sea. She searched their dark depths, looking for answers but chose to leave her unasked question hanging in the air.

Who or what had poisoned his heart to love? Would he tell? She doubted that. A mystery she would have to unravel, as with a greedy ear she anticipated listening to the tales he may or may not share.

Eily Nash ~ 2020

Find my books on http://www.amazon.com/author/eilynash 📚

Dimpsey Dusk

selective focus photo of purple petaled flowers
Photo by Suzy Hazelwood on Pexels.com

 

DIMPSEY DUSK

I’d heard many an ancient story told, of the magic the Bluebell Woods may hold. Did I believe it, was it for real? If a mortal man stood in a faerie ring, precious time was something they would steal. Could there really be such a thing? The thoughts rattled around my head, I admit by curiosity I was led. It was back in the merry month of May, as I recall, ’twas Beltane day and  just as the dimpsey dusk had begun to fall, I heard enchantment call. 

I set off down a country lane, clambering over stiles, a rickety bridge across a rhyne and through the fields of Barley, until I stood at the entrance to the Bluebell Woods. I had left the world so mundane, seeking the magic that lives in a space beyond the confines of time. I stood very still, barely holding my breath. What if the myths were true, could meeting the Fae really cause a man’s death? Beautiful Bluebells, their scent pervaded the air. Suddenly I did not care as their tinkling chimes dispelled my fear, I could sense the magic as I drew near.

With glow worms to light the way, I followed a winding trail, determined to return to tell the tale. The leaves begin to sway, dancing to the birds signalling the end of day. Then I saw him, my heart skipped a beat. A little fellow, so dapper and neat. He had a suit of red and green, such a creature I had never seen. Shiny black shoes with silver buckles upon his feet. With cheerful words he greeted me, ‘Good Sir, Merry Meet!’

I was so surprised when he spoke and  told me he was of the Elven folk. Reaching up, he took my hand and led me into an enchanted land.How blessed was I to see a sight, granted to a mortal man that warm Summer’s night. In a clearing in the woods, the Beltane fire burned high and bright. Beside the Elf, I felt brave and I felt bold, and so I stood, quite at ease and protected by the trees, and watched it all unfold.

I was midst the Royal Court of the Fae as their magical May procession got underway, led by the Faerie Queen and her Holly King. Oh her beauty had to be seen! Her silken gown was spun from gossamer threads, a golden diadem upon her lovely head. Her flaxen hair was loose and long and came tumbling down. Her Consort, a majestic sight as he took her hand and they sallied forth into the night. The Faerie folk, Elves, Hobgoblins, Dryads, Sprites and Nymphs all bowed down to She who wore the Green Wood Crown. 

Enchanted I watched as their Majesties walked by, the Faerie Queen caught my eye. She beckoned me to join her entourage and follow the retinue. I did not hesitate, grabbing the little Elf by the hand, I did as she bid me to and went further into the deep dark woods. Along the way Fireflies flew, tiny sparks of  dazzling, dancing light, as the procession came through.

By the Beltane fire, I saw two thrones, hewn from ancient stone. I felt the power build and rise from the forest floor. I had wandered through a liminal corridor. A land of beauty, magic, song and dance. The whole forest was alive, and I was entranced. Beetles, bugs and Bees joined in the festivities. There was nectar to sip and cake to eat. A giant toadstool became my seat. Fallow Deer, Badgers, Stoats, Mice, Foxes, Hedgehogs and Voles are came creeping shyly in to pay homage to the Faerie Queen. Such marvellous sights, the like of which I had never seen!

And through the night music played, on a Harpsichord, flutes and Mandolins, and a Nightingale sang madrigals and songs of Courtly love. Oh how we danced and twirled and spun in circles, round and round. My feet hardly touched the ground! And then from somewhere high above, I heard a Barn Owl screech and in a happy, dizzy haze I fell upon the forest floor. The sights and sounds receded, I looked but although he was needed, my Elven friend was somewhere out of reach.

Beneath the light of a Flower Moon, the Faerie Queen looked upon her blessed realms of The Summerlands,  stretching as far as the eye can see. Beauty reaching to infinity. With a wave of her magic wand and the mists begin to rise around Avalon. Sleep fell upon me, and enchanted by the  Queen of the Green Wood’s spell, I kept the secret. For their story I would never tell.

Eily Nash (2020)

 

 

MY LATEST PUBLICATION IS AVAILABLE AS A KINDLE EBOOK AND PAPERBACK

 

Song of the Siren

sea beach vacation people
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In shallow waters he teased and played, enticing hungry bodies to lust and fall to sin. Then with practiced ease, no remorse or backward glance, he would callously walk away, leaving heartache in his wake. Broken shells and shattered dreams on the empty shore of love.

Until the fateful day he heard the Siren’s warning call.

‘Beware the beautiful mind that draws you in.’

Intrigued by the beguiling deep, he slowly waded into the stillness of the sea, thinking he was free to ebb and flow and ride the tide, like the Starfish on the beach.

Yet each time he heard the song of the Siren, he went further until there was no ground beneath his feet.

Falling

Falling

Siren calling …

Who could save a drowning man from his own desires as he became a willing prisoner to the deep?

Eily Nash

Find my books on http://www.amazon.com/author/eilynash

Love Song of the Universe

From my home midst the Star Nurseries of Alpha Tauri we saw Her tears falling and heard Her distress call come travelling from a beautiful blue planet, across time and space and our shared galaxy, Orion’s Arm.

The Spirit of the Earth, Gaia, had cried out in anguish. Her children were in pain, for in their ignorance they had opened Pandora’s box and unleashed the Furies upon themselves. We set sail, across the cosmos, passing planets, nebulae, suns, stars and moons.

With heavy hearts we stood on the roof of the world and looked down, as if into the abyss itself. Gaia whispered the Truth. That which should have been heaven upon the good Earth was now becoming hell. And all was in the balance betwixt Light and eternal darkness.

We looked and saw deep into the hearts, minds and souls of Man. There were those who wore the armour of dishonour, prepared to sacrifice the World for greed, seeing goodness as weakness. There were also those who wore a mantle of goodness, loved and cared deeply for all Life, knowing it to be a precious gift of the Godhead. They longed for the paradigm shift that would birth a new way of Being. Understanding that ‘All is One.’

The sorrow of the Earth ripped through us. We could not stand still and watch the sons and daughters of the Earth destroy each other along with Gaia, their Great Mother. We had carried with us across the Galaxy Seeds of Light. We scattered the precious seeds far and wide, knowing they would grow in the hearts of men. It would take time, but the tide would turn.

Our mission complete, we returned home, And as we travelled, we played the music of the Spheres and sung in praise.

Back on The beautiful blue planet, our Star Seeds heard the Love Song of the Universe. They remembered they were born from Love and would return to Love and they too began to sing✨

Eily Nash ~2020

My books are available as Kindle & Paperbacks from 📚www.amazon.com/author/eilynash

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Check Mate ♟

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You were the one who chose the game

And placed the pieces on the board.

You made your opening move.

Lies wrapped in Truth.

Wanted your Lover’s game darker.

Black Queen with sights set.

Picked up your sacrificial pawn.

You did not see the gambit

….until it was too late.

The silent Rook took flight

Swooped and took your white Knight.

Check Mate.

Game over

❤️♟🖤

Eily Nash ~2020


My books are available from http://www.amazon.com/author/eilynash

As a gift from me to you, my collection of poetry, HYMN TO HER, is available as a FREE Apple iBook from the App store 🖤❤️

AN ANGEL CALLS

 

In 2012 I penned my first novel. It came from a place of pain. Seven years on I have grown both as a Writer and a person. I decided to revisit my book “Wychwood” and give it a re-write, detaching myself from the drama and writing as an observer. Although I received praise for the book I wanted to infuse it with more Grace, more Magic and occult layers. The Main Character has a new name Phaedra (Fay’dra) and I have introduced some new and more sinister characters.

This is Chapter One…

 

1 AN ANGEL CALLS

 

 

It is said that for every soul who walks upon the Earth a Guardian Angel is assigned ~ there are times the Angel may walk beside a soul, there are times the Angel may carry that soul and then there are times the Angel can only stand and watch and weep…

 

Midwinter. Dusk came stealthily creeping in, intent on stealing away the remains of the day. Fog descended over the grey London skyline, wrapping the Victorian villas in a numinous mist. White stucco coated walls that had shone in the harsh glint of winter sunlight now took on a ghostly air. Comforting coals burning in the hearths within cast a warm glow through opaque windowpanes, orange eyes keeping watch on a cold, dark night. ‘Fire light, fire bright, all is well tonight.’ Smoke snaking from tall chimney pots into the chill air warned any gathering preternatural creatures of darkness to stay away.  As dusk succumbed to night’s embrace, the fog began to lift, revealing a star-studded sky. Lights were extinguished and weary folk made their way gratefully to bed, giving thanks to the Lord for the day that was done and the morrow yet to come. One house stood apart from the camaraderie of its neighbours, no warmth or light was to be found within its walls. The interior of number four was just as bleak as its cold, nocturnal façade. Winter’s icy fingers reached into the very heart of the despondent house, into a cavernous bedroom dressed in heavy furniture from a bygone century back when the house was proud and new. A huge mahogany bedstead, barely discernible in the gloom, rose as a dark island in a sea of darkness. Centre stage was given to a huge black Victorian cast iron fireplace, inset with tiles glazed with an elegant William Morris floral design. It was too dim to appreciate the contrast of the beautiful pure white flowers, against the blackness of the cold and empty hearth. Lilies for the departed soul now restored to innocence after death. The room was out of step with the modern world unfolding beyond its ornate walls patterned in rich shades of gold and teal. Heavy jade brocade curtains dressed the window, although slightly closed they admitted a pale sliver of light to slyly come creeping in and illuminate the scene within the room.

From the remoteness of the huge bed, a young child sat up, big hazel eyes wide open, scanning the room for a phantasmagorical Presence she could sense hiding somewhere in the shadows. She drew an eiderdown tightly around her tiny body, tucking the edges under her trembling chin. The big bulky frame of her Father lay beside the little girl. He was sleeping, lost in Morpheus’ arms with heavy breathing reverberating around the room, chasing away the creeping silence. Shadows danced along the walls, thrown up by arbitrary moonbeams. A gilded mirror hung above the fireplace and the child was mesmerised by the forms within its silvery depths.

At bedtime Phaedra loved to curl up with a book of fairy tales enchanting her. She imagined the ethereal creatures from the pages, elves and goblins, fairies, centaurs, unicorns, talking owls, nightingales and brave Knights and beautiful Princesses were all living in the mirror, inhabitants of a world within worlds. As another ray of capricious moonlight fell across the Oak floor, it illuminated a pale, languid, crumpled body. Comatose, the flaccid form lay curled in a foetal position, an almost empty brandy bottle clutched in a lifeless hand. A malevolent shape crouched beside the figure. Both were reflected in the mirror. Seeing the Presence, she had sensed, the child let a strangled sob escape into the gloom, alerting the man. Startled, he scanned the room and assuring himself and his tiny daughter that nothing was amiss, he urged her to snuggle down and sleep. His wife was where he had left her, on the floor. Having witnessed the same drug and alcohol induced scene for far too long and powerless to change things, he had ceased to care a long time ago. Defiantly, the child shook her head, soft auburn ringlets swaying around her little heart shaped face, eyes luminous and anxious.

‘Daddy, the thing is here again! It is sitting next to Mummy!’

‘There is no thing, it is just the shadows.’

‘I can see it in the mirror, flashing dark eyes with red sparks burning like hot coals, Oh Daddy!’

‘Phae, it is just the reflection of the embers in the fireplace.’

‘Daddy the fire is out. Mummy is cold, laying there on the floor, does she need a blanket?’ She enquired tentatively. ‘Why is Mummy on the floor again, and not snuggling up with us like she used to. Why is that scary thing next to her?’

‘Oh, that thing? That’s just Mummy’s shadow friend.’ With tired indifference, he humoured her, eager to go back to sleep. His once beautiful wife’s modelling career had paid handsomely but come at a terrible toll with easy access to drink and drugs and the descent into oblivion and addiction.

‘Shall we cover Mummy to keep her warm? She may be afraid of the dark and are you sure the thing is a friend?’ She persisted.

So many questions, so few answers. Thinly veiling his feelings of revulsion and contempt, voice laden with disgust, the weary man offered comfort ‘The floor is where Mummy and her shadow friend belong, go back to dreamland, Phaedra.’ Then kissing her on the tip of her nose, he rolled over and went back to sleep.

The little girl burrowed under the covers and lay down with her tiny face snuggling into her Daddy’s warm back. Mummy was fine, Daddy knew best. Her worries alleviated she slept the rest of the night comforted by the deep sleep of the innocent. In her dreams, the child called for an Angel, an Angel of Love and Light to come and take the thing away and keep Mummy warm. And the Angel hearing her call, came.

In the hours that lay on the cusp of night and day, a luminous golden radiance bathed the room and an Angel, with benevolent arms outstretched, stepped out into the gloom. He held a gossamer blanket, woven from the light of the stars from the heavens above. With a gentle touch He wrapped the child’s Mother in love and light and tenderness. For the Angel knew, just as the child knew, that the woman although bound by addictions was still deserving of love and compassion.

‘She is mine!’ Hissed a misshapen demonic form.

‘No! She is His.’ Serene cobalt blue eyes looked heavenwards. The Angel knew whilst barricaded into her own pain, it would take a lifetime to free the woman from her tormentor and captor. How long that life would be was written in the stars, yet the Angel was prepared to fight the demon for her eternal Soul.

The demon’s dark eyes flashed red sparks of pure malice and it pushed the brandy bottle across the floorboards. The woman stirred and through a haze she reached for the bottle and taking it from him she drained the last dregs. In his clawed hand the demon held a fresh bottle. The woman lunged at him, eager to feed her addiction.

‘It is yours, but not whilst you clutch at that useless thing!’ it spat in loathing, pointing his gnarled claw at the blanket of Light.

The blanket of Light felt good and through the haze of drugs and alcohol the woman knew she should keep a tight hold.

‘Go away!’ She cried, wrapping the blanket tightly around her body. Grace washed over her and soothed her unquiet soul into a deep and peaceful sleep where the demon could not reach her.

The demon spewed fire and brimstone. ‘If I do not take the mother, I shall return for the child!’ it hissed at the Angel, before its malignant form dissipated into the darkness, along with the stench of stale alcohol and bitter pungency of opiates pervading the air.

The Angel prayed silently and bestowed a quiet benediction over the child and her lost Mother and the man who had long forgotten the truth, as he slept in his warm bed whilst the woman he once loved and had lost her way, lay on the cold floor.

A fragrant blend of frankincense and attar of roses filled the room. The man did not smell the perfume purifying the space around him, his child and his wife. Nor did he see the celestial blanket of stars woven with the Light of Heaven wrapped around her. He did not see the pure white lily the Angel had placed in the woman’s hand when she took away the empty bottle.

He did not see the Angel of Light standing at the foot of the bed, waiting. The demon would return. The woman would try to fight. Without the help of the man her redemption would only come the other side of the veil. The man could not see these things, for he too was enslaved by his own addictions and unable to feel the Presence of God when an Angel calls.

And so, the Angel stood and wept.

~~~♥♥♥~~~

 

Eily Nash~2019

 

Thank you for reading.

The Original version will remain in print as I work on my new version.

 

Angel Paws

This is my Westie and my constant companion. I love this little dog to infinity and beyond. For 12 years we have hardly been apart. She brings so much joy and happiness to me. I have nursed her through many health issues and penned 3 fictional books about her. Angel’s tiny body holds a huge heart and a big personality. Did I mention I love my little fur baby?! ❤️🐾❤️🐾❤️🐾❤️🐾Angel’s Books are Available on Amazon 🐾

She walks in Beauty…

In which the Muse is upon Angel as she channels Lord Byron and exposes Grannie as a love cheat along the way!

ANGEL CAKE

“Beauty, thy name is Angel… “

‘Oh is that by a famous poet?’ You may solicitously inquire, my Lovelies.

Hmm…It is indeed by someone famous, but not a poet. Someone who, dare I say, may well be a Literary Genius! Have you guessed??? Who comes to mind??? Clever you! Yes…It is by Moi, and it is all about Moi…Who else?! Now you and I, and all the World know I am indeed beautiful, so why am I penning the obvious?!! ‘Cos I can, My Lovelies…I Am The Paws! And like the first canine, like ever, to be a real Author…How cool is that??? No need to answer My Lovelies, the question is purely rhetorical. It is more cool than a polar bear in Ray Bans sunbathing on an iceberg.

‘How did you discover your talent for poetry?’ you may well further solicitously ask me, my Lovelies.

Well it was all because of Grannie skanking with a famous poet and threatening my family security and also our shopping trip to Nieman Marcus…Read on…time for another of our little “Shh…secret sharing sessions”

It was the day after the whole debacle with GrandPa and the floozie that turned out to be an annual herb, and my abandoned date with that Angel cake and Krios at the Loeb boathouse restaurant in Central Park. Grannie was trying to make things up to me and we were chilling with smoked salmon and cream cheese blinis and chilled Chardonnay in our Penthouse. I was trying to talk to Grannie about something really important. Shopping. But she just wasn’t listening and she had this really stoopid mushy, faraway look on her face. She was muttering something about ‘his words being soooo sublime and how blessed she was to have her perfect man.’ Hmmm…who was this geezer she was ranting on about and more importantly did my G.G.P (Grumpy GrandPa) know? and if not, why not…So in the interests of family unity, getting my own back and shopping, I did the right thing. I once again Face Timed him back home in in England’s green and pleasant land from my Apple iPad in the big Apple.

‘GrandPa, listen up, I need to snitch on Grannie, Erm, I mean tell you something…this is very serious….Grotty Grannie has another man and he has been sending her love letters!’ I solicitously informed him.

‘Grooouuumppphhhh…W.T.F? Didn’t you cause enough trouble yesterday, you little Minx!’ He eloquently answered as he choked on his Gordon’s and tonic. Obviously having had one or ten too many. Just sayin’ G.G.P!

Funny how I got the blame for what was patently not my fault. I decided to be the bigger dog, which is no mean feat when you are less than a foot tall, and ignore his accusation. This matter was way to important for pettiness. Direct action was called for. Westies are renowned for our feisty and fearless disposition, so ignoring his apparent discomfort, I proceeded with my expose of my manky, home wrecking and cheating Grannie.

‘See for yourself!’ says I, turning the camera on naughty Grannie as she sat, eyes glazed, reading some tosh from a card with a pink love heart and red roses on it.

‘What are you reading Grannie?’ I cleverly asked, my suspicion it was a missive from her mystery man was confirmed as she spouted…

‘She walks in beauty, like the night…’ sigh...

‘And all that’s best of dark and bright meet in her aspect and her eyes: 

Thus mellow’d to that tender light which heaven to gaudy day denies…’ sigh…

‘One shade the more, one ray the less, had half impaired the nameless grace which waves in every raven tress, Or softly lightens o’er her face;

 Where thoughts serenely sweet express how pure, how dear their dwelling-place.’ Mega deep sigh

‘And on that cheek, and o’er that brow, So soft, so calm, yet eloquent, The smiles that win, the tints that glow, But tell of days in goodness spent, A mind at peace with all below, A heart whose love is innocent!’

Even deeper sigh. Eww. Humphhh…I’d hardly call Grannie’s black and shameless heart innocent, and I was sure G.G.P wouldn’t either!

‘See and hear for yourself G.G.P! Grannie is far from innocent and that geezer’s barely literate…’ I was triumphant! Grannie was caught cheating and totally unaware G.G.P was witnessing her bare faced skanking! That will teach her to ignore Moi when I need to go shopping…

‘Angel….You Minx!!!’ My ingrate of a GrandPa shouted at Moi. This was getting to be a bad habit.

Then Grannie’s phone rang. Then my Oldies had a very loooonggggg convo about Moi. Then unbelievably, and unfairly they both said I am so totally grounded. Again. Porquoi???

Hurrumphh. Who Knew???? The manky card was from him to her. Erm, it seems they had a thing called an anniversary. Seems she likes poetry. Seems she likes this geezer called Byron. But it is OK. He’s dead. G.G.P has nothing to worry about and neither do I, apart from getting down to Fifth Avenue pronto…I need to get ungrounded like right now. Hmm, I have a little idea! If some rubbishy old poet has that effect on my Grannie, then I definitely can do better. Neiman Marcus have some lovely Loro Piana scarfs in. I like them. They look good on Moi. I need Grannie to grab her Amex and  buy me a nice Jardin Berbere cashmere one, a mere snip at about $2,000 before they sell out…I want to look good when I finally get my paws on that Angel cake and manage to keep a royal date with Krios. So I have penned this just for her, I think she will be impressed to be immortalised in verse, and more than happy to flash the cash for Moi, don’t you?

She walks in shadows of the night

It’s really best she avoids the light

‘Cos her gaudy mush is a right sight

It ‘d give ole  Frankie Stein a fright!

Angel Cake available on Amazon to preview now!

Magic power of a wishing flower

white dandelion under blue sky and white cloud
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Sweet Dandelion
Do you wait patiently for me
To come along and set you free
I’ve heard plenty an aged tale told
Of the magic a Dandelion holds.
Is that so little wishing flower?
Do you have such magic power?

I bid of thee, fly free, Blessed Be.
Bring my heart’s desire back to me!
Scatter through the fields and trees
Soft starburst on the gentle breeze
Treasured seed falls to Mother Earth
Within each one the promise of rebirth

…And so the dance of life goes on…

)0(

Hear me read Sweet Dandelion on Soundclick

© Eily Nash

Lily Flame

Lady Lily Flame

My Lady,  My Love, My Lily Flame

Do you wear a sullied cloak of shame

Has purity and innocence taken flight

To the beguiling dark embrace of Night

Nyx and Erebus, alluring, starless charms

Mists enticing you into seductive arms

My Lady, My Love, My Lily Flame

Guileless innocence, without blame

Deny the Ferryman his Stygian fee

From Thanatos tenebrous domain flee

By  flames of Winter burning bright

Take safe passage through the  night

My Lady, My Love, My Lily Flame

Capricious gods may play Night’s game

Gates of the rising sun light the way

To sanctuary of Hemera’s breaking day

Purified by the kiss of the  Morning Dew

Absolution and Benediction fall on you

~Eily Nash 2015