Dream Dancer

Image by Larisa Koshkina from Pixabay
The Day is done, tired thoughts slowly fade to grey. Do you find comfort, as you lay down your weary head on the island of your bed? Drifting on the shifting sands of reality upon the shores of sleep. The Sandman will soon take you sailing into the void and blessed oblivion of the deep.


Catch the Moon beams as they come dancing in a playful game, glancing off the window panes, across the ceiling and upon the walls. They turn the darkness of your room into sacred, hallowed halls.


For in twilight hours and liminal space, nothing is as it truly seems. Do you want to walk into the forest of the night? I will take you through numinous mists and midnight rays of Light, onto the field of dreams.


Lady La Luna’s tendrils weave Her gossamer, silken strands, enticing you back to the Heavens above. Entranced by the music of the night, dancing across the stars, into the arms of the pure Light of Love.


The Lady heard the yearning of your Soul to be free, to be whole. There is so much more to see, so much more for you to be! Forget life’s silent screams, believe in Magick and know that you are innocent when you dream.


With the rising of the sun, the mysteries of night are done. Leaving fragrant fragments like blossom on the breeze and the whisper of the trees, beyond reason, beyond rhyme. Moments that breathe, in fragile memories of the Truth, we only find by stepping outside time.</p>



Eily Nash ~2020

Forever and a Day 💞

It was such a pleasure introducing Chris and Randy to you dear Readers and I am excited they have agreed to regular guest appearances. Their collaboration is a poetic dance of romance, and brings much joy. I hope you enjoy the love! ❤️

Photograph courtesy of Randy #Chasingsunsets
Tell me the story

of forever..

of the way it began

introducing us

to this final chapter 

speak to the how and why

to the dream, our reality

of lives to reconcile...

~cf




* * * * * * * * *



The reconciliation began

as a final exit

but the sun and moon had other plans

The stars aligned under a cloudless sky

So they chased every sunset-

danced in the light of a lover’s moon.

Now empty pages await the rest

of this happily ever after to be written...

~RW
Photography Courtesy of Randy

Our Poets are on Twitter, pop over and give them a follow!

Howling, hungry Wolf

The wild North wind howls, a hungry Wolf at the door seeking to feast on the souls of the lost and the lonely. Seek warmth from the Applewood burning in the hearth, let the flames warm the ice within your cold heart...Lest He creeps stealthily within, stealing you far away from the place the sweet wildflowers grow, to His frozen lair in a wild domain .

Eily Nash (2021)

Image by Yuri_B from Pixabay

Beautiful Knowing by Raymonde’

On Amazon now as Kindle, Paperback and Hardcover

I am excited to share the debut anthology of poetry from Raymonde’ “Beautiful Knowing” is such a truly beautiful book, which with an Adept’s hand delicately covers difficult themes of pain, loss, loneliness and sadly abuse. With great delicacy and emotional intelligence each poem weaves a story, and as I read, I also deeply felt the words.

But there is so much more than walking into the deep forest of Darkness…

Raymondé (What a lovely name!) also offers hope as the poetry unfolds she embraces a longing for the return of the Light, for connection and love, penned as sensuously and as spiritual as the Sufi Love Poets.

I found this collection hugely inspiring, the Author has such a graceful way of unfolding her words, that as a reader, I was drawn in and entranced into a world of darkness, shadows and despair which ultimately was transmuted in the crucible of Light into a place of incredible beauty. Written from the Heart it touches the Soul.

Beautiful and evocative. A Collection to keep revisiting and to gift to others. Please visit the Amazon link below and see for yourselves, Dear Readers, the magic within…

Spellbound

Spellbound, I held him in my arms✨ summonded by magick, candles and charms✨ Illusions of distance and linear time✨dispelled by a bewitching rhyme✨that which I desire shall be mine✨My Beloved will come to me✨So mote it be.✨

Firebirds 🔥

You may look at us

And call us the Damned

We are not!

We are Heaven’s Warriors

Who chose to descend into the abyss

And rise from the fires of hell

The chains and ashes of pain

Bearing Chiron’s wounds

Renewed and reborn as a Firebird.

Glorious.

Triumphant.

We bear our scars to hold your sins

So Mankind does not suffer as we do.

By the Grace of God we are cleansed

From all iniquity and human sin…

We are Firebirds.

Angels of light.

Quantum Fields

Tell me my love, what is the essence of us?

Where do you begin and I end?

There is no Alpha nor Omega on the bridge across forever.

For I hold you in the heart of my very Being as if you were I, and I you.

We come together as One.

Two charged particles of Light, meeting and merging in a quantum field

In the dark heart of night.

Who could understand the mysteries of what the eye cannot see?

Only the secrets of the Soul can set free

Love that lives and breathes across eternity.

Eily Nash (2021)

Photo by Ugur Tandogan on Pexels.com

Walk Away

Brittle Sunlight shining on a cold November day.
You try but words don’t come, nothing left to say…

walk away, walk away…🎶



The River of Life flows on leaving fading notes 
Of a sad song hanging in the air…

walk away, walk away…🎶



Do not cry, Love's unkind, there is only heartache 
If you should you turn around and stay…

walk away, walk away…🎶




Eily Nash (2021)

Beautiful Fairytale

Did she fascinate, charm and beguile? Maybe a distraction for just a while. 
Did she fill your thoughts in your waking hours and seep into your sleep.
Before you knew, were you in too deep?
Did she really have that power?
With her faraway eyes, she saw other worlds, far beyond the veil.
Was she for real or were you lonely?

Was she just a beautiful fairytale?



~Eily Nash

My books are available on

amazon.com/author/eilynash

Succubus Spell




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



Shores of Love

Poetry is one of the sweetnesses of life, and it is my pleasure to share with you a sensuous poetic collaboration between two wonderful poets, and to offer a warm welcome to “Gossamer Threads” to Chris and Randy 💞

Lake Michigan courtesy of ~cf

I am your sea and you, my shore
My waves will always wash over you 
just as sure as the sun rises and sets
All the granules of your sandcastle soul 
collapse into my undertow..
I undo the pillars of your fortress
with each passing wave
Sand and salt water dance together
in an endless waltz leaving your thirsty shores quenched, 
until the next wave engulfs your surface..
Drink me in and push me away 
my waves are relentless,
as is your thirst for them, endless...



~RW

Lake Michigan courtesy of ~cf

You are my sea as 
I am the shore that waits 
for you to wash over me 
from the depths of your 
currents
you reach me in waves 
that breach my barriers 
the cool of your water, 
craved as you fold over me, 
white capped 
feeling the force of each 
wave's pull-back 
in retreat, in succession, this 
dance that keeps me restlessly 
awaiting the next...

~cf


Meet the Poets on Twitter

https://mobile.twitter.com/Paradoxpoet11

https://mobile.twitter.com/randywrites2012

The tale of the 40D’s and Tiffany’s 😉

O’er, my Beloved’s thoughtless treat has caused me such distress. He has given given me a bucket full of manky stress 🙁

Dear Eily, what could make you so mad. Has your man been really bad??!😡

Well listen up, M’dears with eager ears…

‘Darling, I am going to gift you a Premier 24 hour Membership to the gym with me!’ Says he, a touch too gleefully.🏋️‍♀️🤼‍♀️🚴‍♀️🏊‍♀️

I trembled, I shook. Sweaty excercise, so not in my book!

‘Er, no! ‘ says I ‘that would make me cry. I am lush & lovely as I am. Don’t you appreciate my gorgeous assets, 40D … do you want to shrink me?? ‘

I saw the thoughts whirl in his head…As I invited him to snuggle up and watch my favourite movie in our king size bed.

‘Oh no my Love, what would you prefer instead?’

‘Beloved, I don’t want to throw my toys from my pram, but I’d rather like a shiny, Sparkly something. Nothing grand, a bracelet for my hand. I’m feeling a tiny luxury, maybe a little trinket from Tiffany’s!’ 💍💝💎

His face lit up in a big smile, ‘The 40D’s are here to stay, both yummy breakfast in bed and the Tiffany trinkets are on the way!!’

Ohh I do love Breakfast at Tiffany’s!

~Eily Nash

✨Find my books on Amazon ✨

www.amazon.com/author/eilynash

Two Rivers

 

 

Alone in London, I stand by Tower Bridge. Old Father Thames hears my thoughts of you and how deeply I am falling. Wise is he, takes them rippling on the current down to the endless sea. 

Somewhere far away in a Northern land, you are standing too, on your bridge of stone and steel beside a Castle Keep. Do I imagine that I  hear you calling and feel you reaching through the ethers  for my hand? 

Day is fading and our City lights flicker into life. Do they hear the music of the night? And meet with moon beams upon the waters where both our ancient rivers flow? What stories do they share and what secrets do they know?

Perhaps they speak of Lovers hearts taking flight to meet upon the Bridge across forever. A special place, lost in time, where we come together. In the heat of the night, two rivers meet and our bodies entwine to dance upon the glory of the Tyne.

Eily Nash ~ 2020

My Books are on www.amazon.com/author/eilynash ~Come have a look!

 

architecture bridge city downtown
Photo by Geoff Duke on Pexels.com

Merry Meet & Merry Part

Two strangers met deep in the Greenwoods and both being lost decided to walk with each other for a while. 

The rugged path diverged to the left and the right. A simple glance was all it took, a tacit agreement ~ it was time to part, as each had a different journey to undertake.

Perhaps further down the line their paths may merge again. Perhaps not.

The journey of the eternal Soul is never simple nor set in stone. That which we think we need/want/desire in our human form is seldom what Spirit requires.

They smiled and said farewell with a ‘Merry Meet and Merry Part.’

Vagaries of Men

The Lords of Darkness and of Light sat down to dine, drink some wine, all on a moonless night. Up for discussion, the subject of Souls. It never grew old. 

‘ Which are mine, who are thine?’

An age old theme arose again. They debated. Conclusion came, they agreed the same.

Humans were over rated. Their little lives need not be fated. Let them use Free Will, they will heal or harm, bring pleasure or inflict pain,cure or kill.

There is no celestial charm to cure the vagaries of men. Having thus concurred the gods refilled their goblets of nectar and wine once again.

Eily Nash (2021)
Photo by KoolShooters on Pexels.com

The Bodhi Tree

A solitary man, Siddhartha

Sat in the shade

Beneath the boughs of a

Benevolent Bodhi Tree.

In his heart he knew

The Light of Illumination

Shines from within

He who seeks to be free

From the illusions of Humanity,

Suffering and need caused by

Selfishness, negativity and greed.

In such quiet repose,

Knowledge slowly grows.

Silence speaks to He

Who bathes in Serenity’s Seas.

The Seeker who seeks

Keys to Earth’s Plane of Duality

Finds there is so much more.

Spirituality is there for those

With ‘eyes to see’ that

It is simply found in simple simplicity.

Eily Nash (2021)

Photo by ROMAN ODINTSOV on Pexels.com

Listen to me read Bodhi Tree on Anchor/Spotify

Gangsters Clawing at My Eyes


Lyrics

Phantom in the window holding onto a locket
Stranger to delirium keep that gun in your pocket
Bullet holes never fade
Bang Bang it goes

Gangsters clawing at my eyes doing cartwheels in the mud
Doing cartwheels in the mud

One girl and thirteen stones her eyes glowed like the sun
Wreaking from insomnia carrousel spinning around
There’s an echoe in my closet
Bang Bang it goes

Dancing in limbo a child singing a song
Danger he’s nefarious
Bullet holes shredding little wrag dolls
Mothers hanging coffins
Bang Bang it goes

Obsidian Eyes

Dark Angel who carried me to the edge of heaven, wrapped in your flaming wings of burning desire, you who cast me into the abyss of unrequited love. Exulting in bones broken, laying in unhallowed ground. Hear my lost soul wandering, weeping, through Hades Halls searching for you.

My latest anthology of Love Poetry is deliciously dark and Witch Lit 🖤 Hardback, Paperback and eBooks now available on Amazon Worldwide.

Silent Sentinels

Silent Sentils stand around your Sacred Northern Mound, as Venus chases the Rising Sun across the sleeping night sky. And you and I, my Love? There is no reason. There is no rhyme as to why your hallowed ground is not mine, nor mine yours. Perhaps you will never find the place the West Wind blows, or the Magic the Goddess bestows from Her Southern Tor…

Photo by Trace Hudson on Pexels.com

Star crossed Lovers dance across eternity.

The Seeker

You are the Dreamer, the Searcher and Seeker.

Wanting to explore the soft shores of love.

But fear, like the Moon, pulls the lost and lonely.

Your heart beats like the ebb tide of a turbulent sea.

I feel you receding, until the need in you brings you home to me.

Eily Nash ~2021

I Knew These People

 

Ary Scheffer~”The Ghosts of Paolo and Francesca Appear to Dante and Virgil” ~Taken at the Wallace Collection

“I knew these people…once…It was a long time ago…”

She looked like she needed to talk, some fragmented ghost of a memory rattling around the caverns of her mind seeking to find a voice. So I pulled up a chair and sat down beside her and prepared to listen. After all, it is what I do. Listen. I listen a lot. People tell me things, always have. Seems to come from nowhere, the torrent of words, the secrets and the shames. I never judge. That is for the Man above not me.

A waiter came over. Smartly dressed with slicked back black hair, just a hint of grey kissing his temples and a smile that reached his rich brown eyes. I noted he was deferential without being subservient, in a very European way. I liked him and resolved to leave him a good tip. I saw he liked her, a lot. Did she like him? It was difficult to tell.  There was a story hiding behind his smile, but that would be for another time. Right now was her time. She had something to say and I had a strong intuition I needed to hear it.

I ordered a pot of English Breakfast Tea, toast and marmalade, “Make that for two, please,” I glanced at her and she nodded her approval at him.

“Très bon,” he rewarded us both with a smile, hiding just a soupçon of merriment. This man did not take life too seriously at all. He really was very handsome and as he walked away a delicious hint of citrus and spice lingered in the air.

“Mmm,” I sniffed appreciatively “Do I detect patchouli and sandalwood?”

“Indeed you do. Top notes and base notes. Quite enticing, isn’t it? Clive Christian 1872,” she replied with authority and I wondered if she was the one who had gifted him a very fine bottle of cologne.

We sat in comfortable companionship in the beautiful glass roofed Courtyard. Soft pink stucco walls wrapped the restaurant with the elegance of a bygone age.  She asked me if this was my first visit to the Wallace Collection.  I smiled and told her I often came here to Hertford House and take yet another admiring stroll through the sumptuous rooms of the museum, admiring the works of fine art, especially paintings depicting angels.  I told her my Mother had first brought me here as a little girl.

 

A.-Victor Fontaine (fl. 1837-1884)
Ganet the Elder (fl. 1871 – 1883)

“Love Triumphant” ~Taken at the Wallace Collection

“Mummy are Angels just make believe or are they really real like the elves with their black patent shoes with big silver buckles and fairies with their gossamer wings in my big picture book?” I had made earnest enquiries.

“Indeed they are Evie,” Mummy had replied, “Would you like to see the lovely paintings of the Angels in Hertford House?  We shall look at suits of armour and you can see for yourself knights who protected princesses were very real too! We shall have tea and toast and yummy jam when we finish. ”

My Mother always had a special way of making the most magical things sound a natural part of everyday life. I missed her and gazing at my elegant companion momentarily wondered would Mummy have looked just like her if the sickness had not came and took her away much too soon. Would we be sitting here now recalling my delight at the moment I had gazed on the beautiful paintings of Lords and Ladies of long ago. Entranced by the many treasures housed in the Wallace Collection, I had moved from one sumptuous and ornate gallery to the next, each filled with armour, fine porcelain, ornate snuffboxes and gorgeous fireplaces and rococo chandeliers. And I had seen the Angels. And I had believed.

I saw I was under close scrutiny, “I like it here,” I told her, “ I like it a lot. It’s been a long love affair,” I said.

Velázquez’s black veiled beauty “The Lady with a Fan” ~Taken at the Wallace Collection

She smiled and told me she loved it too, had been visiting the imposing Georgian house, standing proudly on London’s Manchester Square, for as long as she could remember. She said that she loved the Gainsborough’s and Fragonard’s. She smiled in appreciation as she divulged her favourite painting and said she found Scheffer’s “The Ghosts of Paolo and Francesca Appear to Dante and Virgil” hauntingly beautiful. She said it made her cry. She told me she hugely admired the serenity of Velázquez’s black veiled beauty “The Lady with a Fan” and shared she was intrigued by sculptures depicting veiled beauties. She wondered if Raffaele Monti’s emotive statuette really depicted a Circassian slave? Perhaps, she postulated, she was truly free and her beautiful veiled countenance was an allegory for her seeing ‘beyond the veil’ into numinous realms. She said her name was Evelyn and she had a town house close by in Crawford Street, she was a Writer and she was glad of my company. A lot of words as one would expect, but not what she really needed to say.

I shivered involuntarily. Crawford Street was a place I knew well, having grown up in an elegant stucco fronted Georgian house. In different circumstances I would be living there now, but for the premature loss of my darling Mother. That house held many happy memories and I had vowed one day to return, that it would be my home again. Meeting Evelyn was proving to be more than a touch synchronistic.

Raffaele Monti~”Circassian Slave” ~Taken at the Wallace Collection

Our tea and toast arrived.

“Those people…?” I tried to engage her to take my mind away from wandering down dark avenues from the past.

I poured tea, fragrant with freshly pressed leaves, from a pewter pot into our cups and she added the milk and sugar. The toast was good. I ladled on rich yellow butter and a generous helping of deliciously bitter marmalade and as I savoured the flavours I waited for her to speak. You can have an intuition on what they may say, sometimes hear the words before they actually speak them. Then when they do speak, the emotions come in, sometimes softly flowing, sometimes a tidal wave. And I have it all hitting me, sometimes it’s hard to remain inscrutable, to just listen. But it is about them, not me, so they never know I have eyes that look into their distant pasts and possible futures, their right here, right now’s or just how much I know…

She was different. Looking at me quizzically with intelligent eyes, and with a start I realised she was reading me reading her. A feint smile. I winked at her, knowingly. We laughed conspiratorially.

Sunlight, delicately streaming through the glass roof caught her hair. Cool blonde with strands of silver pulled off her face by a black velvet band. A woman of a certain age, but what that age was I would be hard pressed to say. Quietly understated elegance. She wore pearl earrings. Beautiful pearls, soft as moonlight. I admired them.

“Indeed yes, they are beautiful. Tears from the moon.” Her eyes misted. I reached over and covered her hand with mine. A simple gesture, speaks more eloquently and deeply than words ever can. She had long slim fingers tipped with manicured nails varnished the colour of her pale pink pearls. Her hand was surprisingly cold.

“Those people…” I encouraged, knowing the earrings held the key to her story, as did love. Was it lost, unrequited, had her heart been broken or did she carry the heavy weight of human frailty having inflicted pain and hurt on another? I munched my toast waiting for her to reply. The toast here is really very good. My reward for patience just a flicker behind her grey eyes, a wry smile and the deafening sound of silence. Perhaps a guilty conscience lay behind her insouciance? I truly hoped not.

Suddenly I had a very strong desire to know and held her gaze searchingly. I saw the relief in her face as the waiter returned with a fresh pot of tea and she took the opportunity to slip her hand away from mine, the shutters were down. The moment had passed. I got she was uncomfortable with my touch, the warmth of another human reaching out to her. I wasn’t sure if she would tell me her story, or keep her secrets to be shared only with the ghost living in the caverns of her mind. With a start, I realised I could not read her, looking into her eyes all I saw was myself looking back, my pale pink pearls catching rainbows of light as the sun danced through the atrium.

She may well have a lifetime of stories to tell, but I was going to have to live them before Evelyn shared our secrets with me, Evie…

© Eily Nash 2016

 

 

Gypsy Woman

I’d like to share for your delectable delight some smoky hot words from the pen of my talented Texan friend & writer, Randy … Enjoy!

Beautiful Gypsy image from Pinterest

I met a gipsy woman

Who lit a flame inside my heart

Which soon became a fire

That raged both day & night

She said her name was Scarlet

In a sexy velvet voice

Then she sang a song so sweet

My soul began to melt

Scarlet Fire

Red hot desire

Take me higher

Into your fire 🔥

✍️🥀 Randall Wiley

Follow Randy on Twitter for more of his work 😀

Asphalt Puddle

It is my absolute pleasure to welcome back to EdenDene Books one of my favourite Artists, the beautiful and talented Penny from Penny’s Scar. Her voice transports me to a special place, her vocals are sultry, soft, sexy and lush.Her songs, deep, meaningful, mysterious and touch both heart and soul. Listen for yourself and hear and feel the magic that is Penny’s Scar.

 
 
 
 
Lyrics ~
 
 
Kiss the shadow in the darkness
Paint the sky with rain
I never needed you to love me
Love only causes pain
I don’t know about your magic
Seems it’s gonna fade
Tumbling now through the heartless
Faces changing in front of me
Drowning in this asphalt puddle
There’s waves of smoke from all from all the steam
Break the sorrow of contemplation
Wrap me in the truth
I never needed you to love me
I never needed you
So now I wander aimlessly
I’m guided by the moon
Tumbling now through the heartless
Faces changing in front of me
Drowning in this asphalt puddle
There’s waves of smoke from all from all the steam
I will kiss tomorrow like I kissed yesterday
Hide my heart from the world outside
Keep it under lock and key
I dangle here for you
I’m dangling
Tumbling now through the heartless
Faces changing in front of me
Drowning in this asphalt puddle
There’s waves of smoke from all from all the steam
I never needed you
I never needed you to love me
I never needed you
I never needed you to love me
Tumbling now through the heartless
Faces changing in front of me
Drowning in this asphalt puddle
There’s waves of smoke from all from all the steam
I never needed you
I never needed you to love me
I never needed you
I never needed you to love me
I never needed you
 
Words/music

Penny’s Scar © 2019

 
 
 

    *You can follow Penny on Twitter for all her songs and poetry *

Moon Song

I am so happy to share a beautiful poem from my friend and amazingly talented singer, Penny from Penny’s Scar.

Find my ethereal Chanteuse and Poet on Twitter @pennys_scar

Enjoy listening to her music for free. Her songs are mysterious, sensual and evocative and are on Soundclick 💕 Click the link and be transported to a magical place ✨

Image provided by Penny’s Scar

FEEL

I am hugely gratefully to Penny from Penny’s Scar to share her work here on EdenDene Books. This song is one of Penny’s own favourites. It is lovely!

 

Screenshot 2019-08-18 at 15.41.28.png

Listen Free on Soundclick to Penny’s Scar beautifully chilled music. I love just how multi talented the Lady is. Hear for yourself!

 

 

Lyrics ~

I’m gonna fall into your arms feel my body sway

Tasting your heart you hypnotize me

I wanna touch the sweetest part deep down inside 

Where you fall apart and just let go

Feel all of me will you remember this night you and me

Scream with me I wanna hear what your thinking

All that you need

Feel all of me well the desire keeps me needing you and me

I’m gonna fall right next to you so I can feel your thoughts

What you wanna do 

What you wanna do

I wanna watch you when you let go all those pretty things 

Mesmerizing me the way you do

Feel all of me will you remember this night you and me

Scream with me I wanna hear what your thinking

All that you need

Feel all of me well the desire keeps me needing you and me

I’m gonna talk a little more just enough to say how was your day Come here my love

I wanna fall into your arms just melt the night away

Hold you close 

Hold you close

Feel all of me will you remember this night you and me

Scream with me I wanna hear what your thinking

All that you need

Feel all of me well the desire keeps me needing you and me

Words/music

Penny’s Scar © 2019

 

 

Follow my favourite American Chanteuse on Twitter for more songs and poetry

Screenshot 2019-08-18 at 12.47.22

 

 

 

Keys of the Night

From Pixabay

The mystery and magic of She who holds the keys of night began to unfold as my words delicately caressed her fragrant skin.

Black velvet robe falling to the floor, she brought me to my knees and pulled me in deeper, deeper to swim in seas of sensuality.

Enticed, enchanted, charmed …

I fell under my own spell, for that Witch of mine, she knew me well. In her eyes and in her arms I found both the agonies and ecstasies of heaven and hell.

Eily Nash ~2021


Available on Amazon

Silent Scream

Lightening strikes suddenly. Monochrome skies watch over an angry broiling sea.

Silent screams seek release but who to tell, who to hear?

Who to care, who to share?

Turbulent breakers pounding against unfeeling granite rock create endless emotional storms.

If only you would hear my voice, still yourself to hear the wisdom of the West wind…

Let the storm brew and blow. Throughout life storms come and go.

Look at the beauty within each tiny grain of golden sand. Each was once battered and broken by angry waves. Now they glisten in sunlight and bathed by moonlight, soothe the restless ebb tide of the sea.

The beauty of serene sandy shores formed once the silent scream made the choice to shout.

Eily Nash (2021)

Peace

My thoughts, they dance like birds on the wing and fly. High, high they soar into the deep blue sky.

A Dove calls to you, ‘Rise above the dark, grimy pain, tethering you to the Earth, my Love. Ride the wind, kissed by the warmth of the Sun.’

I send a white feather floating down, bringing you the pure essence of perfect Peace.

A new day has begun.

Eily Nash ~2021

Enigmatic Eyes

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 📚

Ice in his Soul

He walked away from the girl who danced by the Light of the Moon. A heart lost to Winter finds warmth in brittle Sunlight smiling on cold snow. She was Beltane fire, bringing the promise of Spring, but could not melt the ice in his Soul.

Sappho’s Secrets

Sappho~Charles Auguste Mengin (1877)

Sappho~ Miguel Carbonell Selva (1881)

When a painting touches the soul for the very first time, how it lingers like a lover’s kiss in the caverns of the mind…

Two Sapphos, two artists (Miguel Carbonell Selva & Charles Auguste Mengin), one story…

Which is more compelling in depicting the raw emotion of a woman on the edge of reason? Which one embodies the woman behind the myth?  

I have been unable to find out if either Mengin’s brooding or Selva’s sultry depictions of Sappho were posed by models. Did either have a real flesh and blood ‘Muse’ or was ‘She’ a composite formed in the mind’s eye?.

Perhaps Sappho stepped out of the mists of time and into their psyches to be immortalised on canvas?
Could an alluring voice from the past carry such power?

Questions, questions…

Mengin, for me,  has captured an ‘essence’ that is soulful, deep and moody, those dark eyes! What secrets do they hide? What knowledge, what pain. I am intrigued.

 

Here are her own words, translated from Greek.

The poem is titled ‘Lonelieness’

Set are the Pleiades; the Moon is down
And midnight dark on high.
The hours, the hours, drift by,
And here I lie, Alone


Those words echo from antiquity and are as relevant today.

Art, speaks the language of the soul, feelings. I posit that is why we have a strong emotional reaction to beauty on a visceral level. Some ‘knowing’ lays far beyond that which words alone can convey.  

The Lady is indeed beguiling, both her myth and mystery still speak to modern minds. After seeing Sappho for the first time at Manchester Art Gallery:-  

“I think it was the look. The mystique. The eyes and the draw that reminded me of someone I once knew. Yes, I read about her exploits in her life, but safe to say I couldn’t escape those eyes ! Did she jump or didn’t she? There were a few bits of art there in the Gallery, with her not so naked. All with the same follow me eyes. And I shamefully did. For a while. She got me.”

A.N on his encounter with Mengin’s Sappho

What did Sappho’s paintings say to speak so deeply to capture and captivate those who gaze into deeply hypnotic eyes?

‘What do you see in me, that is in you too?’

I could be wrong. My fanciful question is purely rhetorical. Perhaps she said nothing at all.

The story behind the imagery is a legend that she committed suicide by leaping from the Leucadian cliffs over the unrequited love of a beautiful ferryman named Phaon.

I did some research. There is no historical evidence for this legend, rather scholarly thought suggests that she lived to old age. A less romanticised outcome to the visual narrative of both of the Artists.

Perhaps Sappho once stood on the precipice of her own unquiet thoughts and contemplated annihilation in the way that afflicts those of artistic temperament. Felt the pain and then stepped back from the edge. I am sure we have all been there. We have all felt pain, been hurt, caused hurt. It is part of the human condition. What we do with this understanding will either break or elevate us to a higher plane of ‘knowing’, understanding and integration of the ‘self’.

Just a thought…

To create, be it art, music, poetry, literature, they are all languages that speak from and to the soul.
I would suggest that an artist is ‘hard wired’ to feel deeply, to understand depth psychology in both self and others and face existentialist crisis head on. To see beauty in pain.
To stand on a precipice as Sappho did, and look deep into the abyss yet also reach up and touch heaven.

…and therein maybe just, there lies salvation …

Eily Nash (2021)

For further reading, I highly recommend this very interesting article by Joshua J Mark from World History Encyclopaedia https://www.worldhistory.org/Sappho_of_Lesbos/

Sappho by Charles Mengin and Death of Sappho by Miguel Carbonell Selva via Wikimedia

Nevermore

The Winter sun hung low in the sky, tantalisingly bright yet withholding the promise of warmth on the fields below. A murder of crows took to the wing for their last supper before the dusk wrapped a grey blanket over the land. Melisande knew once they returned to roost high in the line of ancient Oak trees it would not be long before night would come riding in. She felt the temperature drop and shivered, pulling her woollen shawl tightly across her thin body. The morrow would arrive with a dressing of hoar frost. Clutching her basket, meagre rations of berries and nuts forlornly rolled around as she made firm strides for home.  The barren fields had no more to give and neither did she. 

The cottage had seen better days. The interior was a grey as her ragged hair. A motley collection of worn out furniture, table and two wooden chairs, a threadbare armchair before an empty and cold grate. A dirty mirror hung above the mantle. There was no need to clean it, long ago she had stopped caring about the reflection looming back. The lonely ghost of the woman who once was remained trapped behind cobwebs and dust. 

Melisande’s bones ached. She longed for warmth, from a lover, a friend, someone who cared. But there was no one. They had all left long ago. She piled applewood logs and kindling into the grate. Reluctantly the fire took, spreading a wan light into the gloomy room. She would make herb tea and maybe try to eat and then sleep, in dreams maybe she would be free, if she could keep bad at bay and the nightmares away. The cawing of crows heralded the coming darkness. She shuddered. 

The fire flickered into life, and slowly sipping the soothing tea she stared deeply into the flames, into the past. 

It had not always been this way. 

Back to vibrant times when she had turned heads, a selfish woman with many married lovers she met at her work in the big city. The cottage in the country was her retreat from the madness and mayhem and greedy life of an investment banker. Treating people badly was her trademark. It didn’t matter, there were plenty more foolish enough to replace the ones she callously discarded. 

A tear rolled down her face. In the flames she watched the scene replay as if it were yesterday. 

Another party, another drunken, drug fuelled night on the town. Worse for wear she had crawled back to her penthouse. Needing to sleep, but wanting just another drink. Ignoring the stabbing pain in her chest, she snorted another line of coke. Another pain, gripping her with vicelike intensity. A knock at the door. It is a handsome man. She asks if he wants her body. She is drunk and drugged. He says no. He is Death. He wants her soul. Shocked she slams the door. The next night he returns. Again she slams the door. The third night he returns and tells her I have not come for your soul tonight. I have brought you a gift. It is in this box. As long as you open the box every night at midnight  I will not return. 

She accepts the box. The handsome man leaves. She begins to fret, death knows where she lives. She moves to the cottage, opening the box at midnight. But still she fears the knock at the door. She thinks back each night to what she lost and what could happen. Every night the crows caw. Many moon-tides pass. Beauty fades; she is old, poor, wizened and lonely. The firewood runs low. Freezing she throws the box onto the fire. Blue sparks. A knock at the door. It is death.

“You said you would not come. I opened the box every night at Midnight. Every single night for the past twenty five years!”

“Yes, but you have now burnt the box. The contents have been destroyed.”

“But there was nothing in the box. It was empty!”

“No, it was full of your fears. Every time you opened it, you let them out. Every time you closed it, you put new ones in.”

“So I have been a prisoner here, of my own making? Trapped by my fear of dying?”

“You should have come when I first called. Happiness awaited you in paradise. But your greed kept you here and then you made yourself a  prisoner of your own fears.  You have not lived but you have died a thousand times…”

He held out his hand. Melisande walked through the open door. The winter sun hung low in the sky, dawn was breaking and there was the promise of a bright new day. 

Eily Nash (2020)

Imperfect Lovers


We were perfectly imperfect lovers, lost on a cosmic sea

We were the tempest and the storm, the calm of dawn and early morn

We were midnight rainbows and the Moon dancing with the Sun

We were the wisdom of the ages and the innocence of the newborn

We were celestial constellations and simple Starfish on the beach

We created a special kind of magic no one but us could see

We were perfectly imperfect lovers, bound together through eternity

Eily Nash (2021)

Image from Pixabay

Secret Garden

Photo by Brett Sayles on Pexels.com

There once was a Secret Garden filled with beautiful blooms of every colour and hue, ruby reds, yellow, purple, orange, pink and blue filled every flowerbed.

Everything from delicate Daisies to strong Sunflowers thrived in the rich dark earth everywhere. Bluebells, Freesias, Lilies, Jasmine, Honeysuckle and Roses all harmoniously blending into one heavenly perfume. A myriad of intoxicating fragrances filled the air.

There was magic in this special place, kissed by warm Summer rain, caressed by Sunlight and bathed in Moonlight, the Secret Garden created a dance of the senses for those who knew the inter connection of all things and felt the hand of Grace. Honey Bees gathered sweet nectar, birds sang, beetles and ants worked hard, Butterflies and Dragonflies danced.There was a home for everything and all was in perfect balance and harmony. A Secret Garden filled with all that was good, hope, faith, love and serenity.

Until one day the Stranger came.

With jealous eyes he looked through the garden gate, there was no admittance for him there for his heart was filled with hate. Rather than just walk away, the Stranger decided to stay.

With malevolent eyes, he looked to the skies and cursed the Sun as he scattered seeds of hate. His darkness grew and infernal night came riding in. Without the Light from a benevolent Sun and the kiss of soft Moonlight, the garden of love withered and died.

The Stranger smiled, his dark deeds done. If he could not have admittance to the beautiful garden, then no other ever would. He alone would enjoy the seeds he had sown, once they bloomed. Eons passed. He regarded what was now his garden. The ground was barren and bare, not even Bindweed grew.

The Stranger cried out into the darkness ‘Why does my garden not grow?’

A soft voice answered ‘Love cannot grow from seeds of hate.’

Understanding tore through his rigid body, a lightening bolt of realisation. He closed his eyes and began to cry. A blinding flash of Light filled the darkened skies. His tears of remorse formed into a pool. A Nightingale began to sing a soft, sweet song. The sound filled the caverns of his empty heart.

Opening his eyes, he saw upon the pool of tears a perfect Lotus Blossom.

And the Stranger understood.

For the rest of his days he walked lightly upon the Earth, tending the garden with deep gratitude. The Sun and Moon poured Blessings and Benedictions upon their Son. No longer a Stranger, he had found his way Home and the garden grew in such beauty that the people came from far and wide. They asked him what was the secret of such a magical place.

Smiling he simply said ‘Love.’

Eily Nash (2021)

Swallowing Like Sorrow

I believe music, like poetry, to be gifts of the Soul. There are some creative people who through their creative talents bring magic, healing and love to the World. I am in awe of the sheer beauty of the lovely Penny from Penny’s Scar. The Lady is a Poet, Songwriter and musician. It is my pleasure to share with you some of her work. All her music is free to listen to and also download from Soundclick. Have a listen and immerse yourself in the haunting, mesmerising and sultry tones of Penny’s Scar 🎶

The bridge is down
My heart has found
Another rock to throw
Wispy sounds on the water
Rippling through broken shadows
Kissing time frozen inside
Which way do I go
Midnight coming
Slowly takes the pain away

https://www.soundclick.com/music/songInfo.cfm?songID=14153124

Follow Penny’s Scar on Twitter for more magic!

Child Within

I saw behind the strength of the man, the kindness, love and care he gave to others, but rarely to himself.

I saw deep.

I saw the hurt child within.

My heart cried in pain for him, what had been, all he had seen.

I called upon the Sun & Moon to shine their Celestial Light upon the darkness that cast a shadow over his life.

Reaching out friendship’s hand, I bid him leave his worries and concerns. They could wait another day.

Time now to be carefree and just play.

Seeing the reticence in his eyes, I smiled and reassured, as my own inner child whispered…

‘It’s OK, I know. I hurt too.’

So from the mundane world we walked away and went off to find Starfish on the beach and magic in the forest deep.

Gaia’s Heartbeats

If it seems the World has grown ugly, it hasn’t. Earth is full of beauty. People cause the illusion of ugliness by their treatment of others and this precious blue planet, our Home.

The heart of the Great Mother, Gaia, beats to the love song of the Universe.

If only we all heard…

Song of the Nereid

Pale moonlight draped the lonely shore.

A solitary man stood looking out across the warm Aegean sea.

His heart torn. Did he love in vain?

Far away, on the wings of the wind, he heard a yearning, keening, calling….

A Nereid sang a sad lament of star crossed lovers, for Poseidon’s power had pulled her from her Mortal man, down home to a silvery cave beneath the briny deep.

Silence fell.

The man’s tears for a forbidden deity, witnessed only by silent Starfish on the beach.

Eily Nash ~2021

Find my books on 📚

http://www.amazon.com/author/eilynash

Fool’s Journey

Where did it begin
Journey of the Fool
I do not know …
This Slow fading away
Out beyond the soft tones
Colours and hues of day
Descending to oblivion
Far beyond the comforting
Blanket of night and the
Magic of us, dancing across
Star strewn skies.
An aching need for the Void
To rest in the Soul restoring
Emptiness Of All There Is…

Eily Nash ~2021

Starfish

You found me playing in the warm shallows, intrigued by my strange beauty, you plucked me from my peaceful shores.

Photo by Karolina Grabowska on Pexels.com

In your hands, I could not breathe. I tried to break free, but thinking you knew me better than I knew myself and what was best for me, you would not let go, and took me far away from the sea that was so much a part of me, to your home upon the land instead…

Photo by Efe Yau011fu0131z Soysal on Pexels.com

If only you knew the magic of the Deep, and were not afraid to leave the safety of the shore!

For there is so much more far beyond the horizon than your eyes can see. Maybe then, there would have been a shared life of adventure for you and I.

For some can only walk upon land and some have wings to take to the skies and fly.

And some, like me, can enjoy the gentle kiss of the Sun, caresses of the breeze whilst we rest awhile upon a sandy shore. But for us to live and breathe, we have to slip away from the shallows and gently drift back home to the comfort of the endless mysteries found in the seven Seas.

Photo by Neha Pandey on Pexels.com

How I wish you had walked on by on that sun kissed day and left me on the beach!

I shall surely die in the Winter of your cold and captive hands.

For now I know you are unwilling to set me free as you are unable to swim with me.

I shall never truly know what it is like to be who I was meant to be…

A Starfish swimming in the deep blue sea.

Photo by YUSUF ARSLAN on Pexels.com

Eily Nash ~2021

Ink of Eternity

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

And sit upon Star Strewn thrones.

Eily Nash ~2021

Power of Love

She had a special way with words, knew how to soothe his unquiet Soul. Written in velvet, wrapped in silk, the Truth fell upon his hungry ears. For with a magic touch, the woman knew just how to ease his fears. Was it witchcraft, he never knew. She smiled, for her power was so much more than the arcane arts.

Love heals all.

Eily Nash ~2021

Fading Light

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 ~2021

Smiling Moon

Long lonely miles of separation stretch across the wide expanse of time.Music plays. I close my eyes and sail on seas of dreams. Far from Southern city lights, dimming the clatter of party nights, and noise of it all. Somewhere, the sea washes upon a silent Northern shore. Two Souls meet beneath a smiling moon.

Eily Nash ~ 2021

Capricious Gowns

To be ..

The West Wind

Wild and free

Felt, yet unseen by Mankind

Blow where I will

Over gentle hills

Tumultuous seas

A soft Zephyr breeze

On fierce Panther Paws

Or …

A fixed Star

Adored from afar

Required to shine Bright

Illuminate the dark night

Until clouds gather

Illusions of Self shatter

Immutable Celestials look down

Unable to wear capricious gowns

Eily Nash ~2020

Death Comes Calling

Photo by Oleg Magni on Pexels.com

The Winter sun hung low in the sky, tantalisingly bright yet withholding the promise of warmth on the frozen fields below. A murder of crows took to the wing for their last supper before the dusk wrapped a grey blanket over the land. Melisande knew once they returned to roost high in the line of ancient Oak trees it would not be long before night would come riding in. She felt the temperature drop and shivered, pulling her woollen shawl tightly across her thin body. The morrow would arrive with a dressing of hoar frost. Clutching her basket, the meagre rations of berries and nuts forlornly rolled around, as she made firm strides for home. The barren fields had no more to give and neither did she.

It had not always been this way.

The cottage had seen better days. The interior was a grey as her ragged hair. A motley collection of worn out furniture, table and two wooden chairs, a threadbare armchair before an empty and cold grate. A dirty mirror hung above the mantle. There was no need to clean it, long ago she had stopped caring about the reflection looming back. The lonely ghost of the woman who once was remained trapped behind cobwebs and dust.

Melisande’s bones ached. She longed for warmth, from a lover, a friend, someone who cared. But there was no one. They had all left long ago. She piled applewood logs and kindling into the grate. Reluctantly the fire took, spreading a wan light into the gloomy room. She would make herb tea and maybe try to eat and then sleep, in dreams maybe she would be free, if she could keep bad at bay and the nightmares away. The cawing of crows heralded the coming darkness. She shuddered.

The fire flickered into life, and slowly sipping the soothing tea she stared deeply into the flames, into the past.

Back to vibrant times when she had turned heads, a selfish woman with many lovers she had met through her work in the big city. The cottage in the country was her retreat from the madness and mayhem and greedy life of an Investment Banker. Treating people badly was her trademark. It didn’t matter, there were plenty more foolish enough to replace the ones she callously discarded.

A tear rolled down her face. In the flames she watched the scene replay as if it were yesterday.

Another party, another drunken, drug fuelled night on the town. Worse for wear she had crawled back to her Penthouse. Needing to sleep, but wanting just another drink. Ignoring the stabbing pain in her chest, she snorted another line of coke. Another pain, gripping her with vicelike intensity. A knock at the door. It is a handsome man. She asks if he wants her body. She is drunk and drugged. He says no. He is Death. He wants her soul. Shocked she slams the door. The next night he returns. Again she slams the door. The third night he returns and tells her I have not come for your soul tonight. I have brought you a gift. It is in this box. As long as you open the box every night at midnight I will not return.

She accepts the box. The handsome man leaves. She begins to fret, death knows where she lives. She moves to the cottage, fear ensures she makes a ritual of opening the box at midnight, just as Death instructed. But still she anxiously awaits the knock of Death at the door. She thinks back each night to what she lost and what could happen. Every night the crows caw. The years slowly crawl by, empty and barren. In the end she is old, poor, wizened and lonely. The firewood runs low. Freezing she throws the box onto the fire. Blue sparks fly up the soot encrusted chimney breast. Then in the silence of the night “Rat-a-tat-tat” it had finally come. A knock at the door. It is Death.

“You said you would not come. I opened the box every night at Midnight. Every single night for the past twenty five years!”

“Yes, but you have now burnt the box. The contents have been destroyed.”

“But there was nothing in the box. It was empty!”

“No, it was full of your fears. Every time you opened it, you let them out. Every time you closed it, you put new ones in.”

“So I have been a prisoner here, of my own making? Trapped by my fear of dying?”

“You should have come when I first called. Happiness awaited you in paradise. But your greed kept you here and then you made yourself a prisoner of your own fears. You have not lived but you have died a thousand times, when you had only need die once…and step into eternal Life!”

He held out his hand. Melisande took his hand and walked through the open door. Death was nothing to be feared, He was an Angel leading her Home.

The winter sun hung low in the sky, dawn was breaking and there was the promise of a bright new day.

Eily Nash ~2020

Song of the ReNewed Earth

Sadness came seeping into the fabric of life, for a terrible contagion raged through the land of men.

Gaia, Great Mother wept for her children.

The little birds asked ‘What shall we do?’

They began to sing of hope, love and of Spring.

One by one, the people heard and they sang too…

The Song of the ReNewed Earth.

Eily Nash ~2021

Angels By Your Side

'How much more can I take,' she cried
 
'More than you know,' He replied 

'What if I break?' she sighed

 'Angels walk by your side,' He smiled. 

'Why does life test so much?' 

Wrapped in Grace, she felt His gentle touch 

'Pain teaches compassion & Love' 

So spoke her Beloved Father, God above

Eily Nash ~2021

I Whisper Your Name



I whisper your name into a starless night 
From the depths of my darkness 
I feel your light 
Misty colored dreams come to life
Cuts right through me like a knife 
All I bleed turns to ink
Lost in you I try to think 
Words escape & fill the sky 
The stars have gathered to say goodbye

Randy Wiley (2020)
Photo by luizclas on Pexels.com

FOLLOW MY TALENTED BEST FRIEND, WRITER AND POET, ON TWITTER

Panther Paws


To be ..

 The West Wind
 Wild and free
 Felt, yet unseen by Mankind
 Blow where I will
 Over gentle hills
 Tumultuous seas 
 A soft Zephyr breeze
 On fierce Panther Paws

 Or ...

 A fixed Star
 Adored from afar
 Required to shine Bright
 Illuminate the dark night
 Until clouds gather
 Illusions of self shatter
 Immutable Celestials jealously look down
 Unable to wear capricious gossamer gowns

Eily Nash ~2020
Find my books on www.amazon.com/author/eilynash

City Nights & Silent Shores

Image:Gif

Did you think of me, as I did you on this Holy day?

Long lonely miles of separation stretch across the wide expanse of time. Music plays. I close my eyes and sail on seas of dreams. Far from my Southern city lights, dimming the clatter of party nights, and noise of it all.

Somewhere, the sea washes upon a silent Northern shore. I know I will find you there. I see you smile. Two Souls leave the world behind, to dance to the music of waves and wind, as they meet again beneath a smiling moon.

Eily Nash-2020

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

Whisperings #2

Your desire willed me here
In the stillness of the night
Dreams tranquilly dangling in slumber
On clouds that pass me by
There is this ache
Hanging on to every word that leaves your lips
Taunting me
As you scream out my name

© Pammy~Penny's Scar

These lingering thoughts of you
Tangled and messy yet perfectly entwined
My heart beats a little faster
The heat of your breath soft on my skin
Like a feather falling
Drifting to the ground
I cherish these moments
Each and every one

© Pammy~Penny's Scar
Dawn kissed the moon
Tasting the breath of forever
Enchanted by a song
So surreal
That it claimed their souls
They danced every night
Under the sway of the clouds
To melodies never heard before
Symphonies from the stars
The rhythm of love

© Pammy~Penny's Scar



Follow Pammy on TWITTER for more fabulous Love Poetry

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LISTEN FOR FREE ON SOUNDCLICK

Innocent When You Dream

The Day is done, tired thoughts slowly fade to grey. Do you find comfort, as you lay down your weary head on the island of your bed? Drifting on the shifting sands of reality upon the shores of sleep. The Sandman will soon take you sailing into the void and blessed oblivion of the deep.

Catch the Moon beams as they come dancing in a playful game, glancing off the windowpanes, across the ceiling and upon the walls. They turn the darkness of your room into sacred, hallowed halls.

For in twilight hours and liminal space, nothing is as it truly seems. Do you want to walk into the forest of the night? I will take you through numinous mists and midnight rays of Light, onto the field of dreams.

Lady La Luna’s tendrils weave Her gossamer, silken strands, enticing you back to the Heavens above. Entranced by the music of the night, dancing across the stars, into the arms of the pure Light of Love.

The Lady heard the yearning of your Soul to be free, to be whole. There is so much more to see, so much more for you to be! Forget life’s silent screams, believe in Magic and know that you are innocent when you dream.

With the rising of the sun, the mysteries of night are done. Leaving fragrant fragments like blossom on the breeze and the whisper of the trees, beyond reason, beyond rhyme. Moments that breathe, in fragile memories of the Truth, we only find by stepping outside time.

Eily Nash ~2020

Find my Books on AMAZON

A Rose, Kissed By The Summer Sun

I could sing you as the lyrics to my songs, 
Depict you in art, watercolours and oils. 
Or write you into fantasy, poetry or prose 
Enough to fill the pages of a Library of books. 
I could appreciate the intoxicating scent of  you, 
Delicate and fragrant as Night Blooming Jasmine
Or the headiness of a Rose, kissed by the Summer Sun. 
But you would only recoil from these tributes of mine. 
For loving you is wrong, if you choose not to see
There is only heartache lying in wait for me
Until you see as I do, the beauty in you and  your Soul
... and give yourself permission to love yourself too.

Eily Nash ~2020

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Drinking You In

With kind permission, I am delighted to share another sensuous piece from the sultry pen of Pammy…

I am seeping inside 

Drinking you in 

Lavishly wanting 

My body arches

Trembling

 As I quiver in your arms

The things you do to me 

When I am thirsty 

You quench me   

I lay pleading 

Screaming your name again 

and again 

And again

and 

again ...

©Pammy/Penny's Scar

In The Dark

I am excited to welcome back to EdenDene Books 
Penny from Penny's Scar 
Sharing her lyrics and a link to one of her songs 
This one of many that I love very much. 

Enjoy the haunting, atmospheric and poignantly beautiful 
sound of Penny's Scar. 

Over 1.5 million listens on Soundclick ! 

The Lady has the most sensual voice I have every heard. 
She sends shivers & tingles up your spine with her hypnotic voice.
Her lyrics and music are something just so VERY special.

Listen to the pure magic that is Penny's Scar x


Only a flower Wasted away
 When the light has faded
 The taste that you give
 Want to walk want to scream want to break it
 Wounds they appear
 Locked inside in the darkness
 I fade like a storm when the rain gets cold
 My eyes out of focus
 All I see around me is nothing but a blur
 Bound to the broken
 So I Carry the pain until I fall
 Until I fall
 In the dark you can love, love in the dark you can love
 You can love
 When the night has faded
 Touched you within
 Haunt my dreams can you taste them
 Fading into the distance
 And this heart I feel it breaking
 I fade like a storm when the rain gets cold
 Felt my thoughts there drifting away
 So I carry the pain until I fall
 In the dark you can love, love in the dark you can love
 You can love In the dark you can love, love in the dark you can love
 You can love In the dark you can love, love in the dark you can love
 You can love
 When the sky has faded
 Broken it's only skin
 Scream out loud last breath it's taking
 Against the wall where time can't exist
 Your wrist are warn and bleeding
 Loving the scars embedded there
 Laugh out loud and you know your breaking
 Left alone to fend for yourself
 Trapped in fear your hands keep shaking
 Is there any way out of here
 So I carry the pain until I fall
 In the dark you can love, love in the dark you can love
 You can love
 In the dark you can love, love in the dark you can love
 You can love
 In the dark you can love, love in the dark you can love
 You can love In the dark you can love, love in the dark you can love
 You can love
 In the dark you can love, love in the dark you can love
 You can love
 You can love In the dark
 You can love In the dark


 © Penny's Scar

Love …

As the Wheel of the Year begins to turn and we draw closer to the Winter Solstice we are warmed by the knowledge the darkness is receding and the Light grows stronger. I’m delighted to share the wonderful works of one of my closest friends, she is a Singer/Songwriter and Poet of incredible beauty and depth. I’d like to give this Sunday on EdenDene Books over to her music and poetry, dedicated to all who dare to LOVE…. Enjoy xxx

 

 

 

Dawn kissed the moon
 
Tasting the breath of forever 

Enchanted by a song 

So surreal

That it claimed their souls  

They danced every night 

Under the sway of the clouds 

To melodies never heard before

Symphonies from the stars 

The rhythm of love

©Penny's Scar/Pammy~Whisperings

For more Sensual Whisperings Follow Penny on Twitter

With over 1,532,925 plays the magical, mesmerising, hypnotic sound of
Penny’s Scar has enchanted on Soundclick. Listen for free on the above link.

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

Photo by Daniel Bendig on Pexels.com

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)

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

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

Photo by luizclas on Pexels.com

“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

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

 

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

Photo by Ferdinand Studio on Pexels.com

 

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