You desire to dance with the beguiling darkness and seek to know She who holds the magick of the Night? Beware what you wish for…Lest you will fall under a spell of fire & ice, heaven & hell. She wears the wings of Angels & Demons. She wears them well…
I am delighted to introduce you Dear Readers to my latest offering. My 11th book is a 1st for me. I love poetry with a passion, both reading and writing. My first collection of my own work has been a pleasure to work on. I hope you enjoy reading just as much as I enjoyed writing “HYMN TO HER” available now to download and read now!
What is it about Woman, the myth, the magic and mystery, that has beguiled and inspired artists, poets and writers since time immemorial?
Hymn to Her is a love song to Her. Beautiful, Strong, Fragile, Fragrant Woman as she travels through the many facets and forms of love.
The beautiful cover girl is courtesy of DarkSouls1 @ Pixabay
I am awe of those who create beauty through words, art and music. Those special souls who take the pain we all encounter in life and turn it into something of incredible beauty. I love this poem by Randy Wiley, a poet and writer who does just that. This is a symphony of words. Just beautiful. ❤️🌹❤️🌹❤️🌹❤️
I am delighted to share more from my favourite American modern day Writer and Poet, Randy Wiley, his words explore all aspects of love and the vagaries of the human heart. This is poignantly painful, something so relatable for so many. I hope you enjoyed reading!
I just adore Texan Poet & Writer, Randy Wiley’s ode to timesless beauty, iconic goddess of the silver screen Marilyn Monroe ❤️✨✨✨Follow my talented friend on Twitter for more beautiful poetry, thoughts and writing ✒️📖
‘I will take you to to the place where the wild roses grow, we will sit a while upon the the lush green riverbank beneath a sun kissed sky and watch dragonflies dance upon peaceful waters as they flow by. There is no other, my dear, I plight my troth to thee!’
I took him at his word and my True Love gave to me a rose. Petals as dark as blackest night. The thorns tore deep and caused my heart to bleed. My red blood fell upon pure white snow. My tears lost upon turbulent seas. A murder of crows cawed at my misery, the truth was there to see. My True Love lied to me.
I am hugely honoured and excited to share with my readers the work of modern Poet, Stefan Fountouris . This beautiful man writes words of love deeply from his heart and in doing so touches other hearts, minds and speaks to Souls. His muse is the beautiful and enigmatic Edi. What a perfect gift of Love to be immortalised in poetry ✨
I am honoured to share the latest songs from much loved Singer & Songwriter, Penny from Penny’s Scar. Her words are poetry flowing from the heart. Enjoy both lyrics and her haunting voice for free by clicking link to her page on SOUNDCLICK
Regular readers will know I love the work of Texan Storyteller, Writer & Poet Randy. For new visitors I am delighted to introduce you to my talented friend and his creativity 😀 ✒️📖 His latest work is lush. A very erotic and sexy piece. Enjoy!
Randy is a vibrant and interactive member of the Twitter community, follow him for more!
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.
I adore this line from “The Young Man’s Song” from “Responsibilities” (1916), which is your favourite Yeats?
“For he would be thinking of love
Till the stars had run away
And the shadows eaten the moon.”
I whispered, “I am too young,”
And then, “I am old enough”;
Wherefore I threw a penny
To find out if I might love.
“Go and love, go and love, young man,
If the lady be young and fair,”
Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny,
I am looped in the loops of her hair.
Oh, love is the crooked thing,
There is nobody wise enough
To find out all that is in it,
For he would be thinking of love
Till the stars had run away,
And the shadows eaten the moon.
Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny,
One cannot begin it too soon.
The Lady beckons to you beguilingly. Obsidian eyes, flashing danger and delight. Her smile, enigmatic, promising delicious secrets to be shared. Tresses of sun kissed silken strands of gold, a river flowing down her innocent back. Mixed messages carried on an air of danger. Fascinated, intrigued you draw near.
She is an enigmatic paradox, formed from Light and Dark. Blessed by sunlight’s golden rays and kissed by the midnight hour, black magick and the devil’s claw. Heavenly Angel, hellfire Demon.Was her Soul star born in the fiery firmaments above or forged somewhere north of Midnight?
Her essence envelopes you. She is not physically there, yet she is everywhere. On your skin, in your mind, you feel her Presence. Bringing both delights and torments. You love her. You hate her. Want her and need her, repulsed at meeting the devil within fearing possession you push her away.
Is she a Succubus, or a figment of fragmented wanton lust rampaging through the caverns of your ravaged mind? Or is she a witch, adept at the Dark Arts and enchantment has placed you under her eternal spell? ✨
There is a woman I used to know Eloise, I helped her a lot with stuff over the years, younger husband falling for a younger woman, his cheating, the divorce that ensued and an old lover who put in a reappearance in more than one way…
Back in the day the love of her life, Carter, treated her badly, preferring bikes, beer and mates. They split but she never really loved anyone like him. Years roll on and they meet and seeing she is (as she supposes) happily married they stay just friends, with the occasional benefit. He wants her back but she knows it would not work. The friendly beers with the boys had long ago turned into addiction.He was a highly functioning alchoholic.
Anyhow, he died suddenly, his once fit body ravaged by years of abuse gave out way too soon. She was heartbroken. Came to see me for tea and sympathy and maybe hoping I may get my Tarot cards out. There was no need, as Eloise walked into my kitchen,Carter came in too!
I saw him as a large grey shadow by her side. I could ‘sense’ what he looked like but not see him other than this very tall, grey shadowy shape. I told her he was there and where he was standing.
She said she knew, she felt him come in too and hoped he would give me a message for her.
Then to my shame something happened I regretted.This was years ago and I didn’t know how to use the ‘gift’.
I heard him inside my head, his voice. Wanting me to connect my energy with him to let her Know he was OK.
I was scared I would not get rid of him, so I closed down. But not before he told me to let her know he had loved her, she had been his true love, the love of his life and he had thrown it away. I thought Eloise would be hugely upset, but she wasn’t, his words were what she needed to hear to lay the ghosts of their past to rest. Eloise left and she was happy…Until the husband’s skulduggery came to light, but that is a private matter, not my story to tell.
Now many years have passed, and many Spirit visitors later, I do know how to send them on their way, just always feel bad about that one!
The spooky stuff that has really happened to me, I have enough to write a book and not one of my usual fictional ones!! Maybe I shall…one day.
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 which I love very much. Please enjoy the haunting, atmospheric and poignantly beautiful ….
If I were to write the Colours of you, every single facet, every beautiful hue, my beautiful child woman Jennifer what would your palette be?
The lush green of the trees in a forest of old and the soft silver breeze rustling their leaves.A secret path through ancient woodlands, liminal rites to numinous sights heralded by the Song of the Nightingale, Supernatural Sight of the Crow, Owl’s wise words and peaceful flutterings from the gentle touch of soft Dove’s wings, feathers of black, brown, white and grey, birds singing and calling from night to day. The gossamer whisper of the Fey at play, dancing in a circle of iridescent light of violet, pink, chartreuse, champagne, larimar blue, citrine and cyan, then resting upon rich mossy banks and verdigris lichen covering bark. Drinking nectar from buttercup yellow and evening dew whilst Bluebells ring the song of the rich earth.
Will these colours do, are they the magical colours of you? There is yet more depth I see, that you reveal to me…
Azure Aegean waters fringed by soft sea foam running upon silver speckled, white washed sands. Shimmering dashes of silver dancing in cobalt blue, fishes darting through coral caverns over opalescent sea shell pink. Starfish and sea horses at play. Whales cutting through density, singing ancient songs of the Keepers of the Deep followed by chromatic Dolphins dancing on sapphire seas.
Your softness is that of a bird on the wing, the honey bees and a butterfly kiss upon the sweet meadow flowers and fragile violets, delicate snowdrops and wild roses. Yet, within you, the strength born of the ages, forged in the foundries of life. Black Granite and White Marble, crystal caverns of selenite, amethyst, jade, jasper, moldavite and Precious stones of many hues, ruby red, Sapphires blue, emeralds green, topaz, opals and pearls, dazzling diamond light.Your fire and your passion a lava flow, burning fires and embers glow.
All these colours of the earth, the sea and fire reside within you, yet most of all you are My Aniela, My Angel, my heaven sent child.
Sunset rays of red and gold, purple and orange, colours so regal, colours so bold. Moonlight on a star stud blanket of darkest night. Sunrise, proud and resplendent dancing in the morning sky. Clear raindrops kissed by light, rainbows dancing in delight.
My beautiful child woman with Alabaster skin, knowing burnt umber eyes and flowing locks of rich nutmeg hair and a secret smile of a wild rose. The colours of you, are all the colours in this beautiful world, for you, my daughter are all the colours of the world to me. Love Beyond Infinity, your Mother.
Music is a gift from the gods, speaking the language of the Soul. There are certain singers who have a way of deeply channelling the human condition and when we hear their voice, listen, really LISTEN to their lyrics, something resonates deep inside. American Artist Penny’s Scar is one such talent. I came across this beautiful, soulful and sultry Chanteuse on Twitter ( Penny’s Scar @pennys_scar )and her music spoke directly to my heart and my soul. Waves of remembrance washed over me as her words, her tone, her heart itself flowed through her songs. With elegance and grace this beautiful lady takes pain and hurt and suffering and somehow transforms all of that into healing balm. Her gift to the World is of the heart. It comes from the Soul.
I showed appreciation, and we became friends. I love her and would like to share her music, and the magic that is Penny’s Scar with you…
Enjoy the first of a regular feature on EdenDene Books!
They say that eyes are the window to the soul. This is a true story about a pair of blue eyes I once saw and never, ever forgot.
An ordinary day, an ordinary shopping mall. I was weighed down, not by shopping, but those concerns life throws at us time to time, heavy burdens we have to carry because there is no one else can take them from us. And if they did? Would we loose valuable life lessons? Only the passage of time, experience and the growth self awareness will tell.
So there I was, walking along alone, lost in thoughts. From a long way off I was aware of Him. Call it charisma, personal magnetism, kismet…I was brought back into the here and now with a powerful pull. He was beautiful, those eyes, those mesmerising eyes. They were a shade of cobalt blue I absolutely adore. I was all at once transfixed and shy, desperately wanting to go and say ‘Hi, how are you?’ But I couldn’t. Rooted to the spot, I watched him glide by, and something passed in his eyes. He looked at me and I at him and I just had an overwhelming sense of ‘knowing’ and a feeling of total and unconditional love, something that had been in short supply for a very long time. His body may have been broken. His Soul Light was mesmerising in it’s intensity!
He was maybe seventy years old, white hair and beard covering a tanned, weather beaten face. I no longer remember what he wore, just that his legs had been removed below the knee and he guided his wheelchair skilfully through the throng of people. I so wished I had chased after him, spoken, asked questions…But…
Many times I hoped I would see him again, in a small town you do tend to see the same ‘faces’ but I never did. I never forgot those cobalt eyes. He became the inspiration for Peter Cabot, Doctor and Spirit Guide, in my book ‘Wychwood’.
That day I believe I was touched by an Angel…And my personal burdens were somehow so much lighter.
An Angel with blue eyes, incredible cobalt blue eyes…
She was a dangerous secret, kept hidden from the world.
How could he explain that when he looked into her Obsidian eyes he was afraid of what he saw looking back, reflections of the darkness in his own soul.
Who could understand, when he could not make sense of it himself, the deep feeling of love he had for the Nightwalker dwelling in the tangled forest of his mind?
Many women came and many women went, as he tried to forget her. But he knew she was just a whisper away and if he were to say her name, she come. Yet fear kept him silent for he knew only she could assuage the longing in the dark recesses of his lonely heart …
It’s Friday afternoon and here I am curled up on my favourite couch, pushed up close to the red brick feature wall, it allows me a sweeping view of the rest of the dimly lit interior, it is the best seat in the house. Comfortable and discreet and perfect for me to enjoy my favourite past time, people watching. I’m enjoying the enticing aroma of freshly ground Arabica beans brewing, all the better to tempt the taste buds of of our patrons. I also see a fresh lemon drizzle cake has arrived on the counter, baked by the fair hand of Cassie. I’m sure there won’t be much of that left this evening!
I’m Henry and I run things around here at the “Black Cat Café ”. That’s Cassie over there, with the fluffy blonde hair and huge amber eyes, if she were a feline she’d be a playful Persian Kitten, but you do have to watch her, sometimes Kitty has claws! Cassie is a people person. Me? I’m far more reserved, cool, detached and maybe even a little introverted. As you have noticed I am an actual Cat, a rather lovely Burmese, with silky black fur and jade eyes that miss nothing. Maybe I am biased but just like our downtown coffee shop, I am rather unique and special.
Could be “The Black Cat Café” feels like home from home, a little haven nestled amongst all the bustling commerce, catering to that strange human need to hang out with other humans. It’s cosy and intimate with discreet seating, an eclectic mix of distressed brown leather sofas and sumptuous armchairs covered in velvet hues of deep purple and forest green. We have lots of plump Liberty print cushions scattered about for patrons to sink into and enjoy a leisurely break from the humdrum world outside. Low, mahogany tables with fresh Freesias in china vases and tiny tea lights in coloured glasses add to the sense of being in an intimate space. An ornate gilded mirror picks up all the twinkling fairy lights strewn around the walls. Cassie happily hosts local artists, displaying their vibrant work. The vibe is vintage, eclectic and super cosy. There are plenty of little nooks and crannies for those desiring a quite tete a tete, friends sharing intimacies, lovers sharing secrets. We cater for those wanting to see and be seen too. Sat outside at our cast iron Bistro sets, they are welcome to light up a cigarette, sip an espresso and watch the world go by European style. And all from our Waterfront pavement in our quaint little corner of Providence.
Interesting what you see in a coffee shop, all the little vignettes of peoples lives, how they interconnect and entwine. I like to people watch, maybe because I’m such an introvert, a window on the world without getting too close. Maybe I am just a discerning cat. It is just like front seat watching your favourite day time soap opera as life’s little dramas play out. I can tell a lot by just looking at a person, where they choose to sit, what they are drinking. Now, you for instance, are a cat person, I can tell you will enjoy just sitting here and soaking up the atmosphere, the scents and sounds. Cassie likes to play the blues on the stereo. I prefer the sultriness of Lana Del Rey and Beth Hart, she plays them too. Says they capture raw emotion, love stripped bare. Cassie gets things, that’s why she is my person. I don’t like to share her.
Come and join me, I’ll be glad of your company and happy to chat for a while. Plenty of space on this old couch. Grab yourself a steaming mug of your favourite brew and people watch with me. Don’t be shy, I find that introverts like to join me, they don’t feel so obviously on their own with a cool cat for company.
“Why thank you Henry, don’t mind if I do. I think I’ll go for a Macchiato and a slice of that lemon drizzle cake. Let me introduce myself, I’m Tyler, I’m a writer, people watcher too. Like to observe the depth psychology of interpersonal relationships. See him over there in sports clothes, with the well dressed woman, what can you tell me about them?”
Ohhh…Those two…They meet in here every Friday, same time, same seats, same drinks. An English Breakfast tea for her and a Skinny decaf Latte for him. I admit I like them. Good. Decent. Married. The last six months I’ve watched it all happen and watched it all unravel.Observed the other players in their little world, too. They haven’t noticed me, noticing them.I can tell you it all, what went wrong, ripped them apart. Shame really. I would have liked to have said something to them, let them know they could make it better, but it would not have worked. They wouldn’t have heard me.I’ve had eyes and ears on them. I think this is a ‘make or break’ coffee date…I know Cassie thinks so too. The whole thing has put her on edge. Oh, my steamed milk has cooled down, just a few sips and I shall share my observations, my dear Tyler!
“I’m intrigued, Henry, do tell!”
He’s called Chase, he’s from the Mid West. Tough guy. Made it out of the ghetto and sidestepped the gangs into law enforcement, rapidly rose to Captain in one of Chicago’s toughest precincts. Had the heart of a lion, fearless on the mean streets, got burnt out, saw way too much too soon. She’s a New Yorker, Manhattan, a real UpTown girl. I’ve intuited all this from the stories they tell each other and things Cassie has said. Life brought them here to Rhode Island. He may be in his late thirties now but still has a great deal of stamina and physical strength, keeps himself athletic, runs marathons. Cassie said it keeps his head clear, I disagree. Who or what is he running from?
“What about the woman, she is beautiful, but a lot older, ten years easily?”
Her name is Venetia, she’s all Fifth Avenue elegance. Look at those pearls, the Chanel suit and those Manolo heels. If you get close enough, you’ll get a waft of gorgeous heady Italian perfume, classy dame. He smells of fresh pine, a forest of green stuff. My Cassie smells of fresh baked muffins, I think I prefer the muffins myself.
“They look like a mismatched pair, Henry, don’t look like they would have any meaningful connection?”
Looks are deceiving my dear Tyler, do what cats do…Look at those eyes, so dark but shine so bright. I wonder if that was the draw for him? Those eyes are cats eyes, see things that others don’t. I can tell that she ‘sees’ him. Knows him well. He seems to like that. She has a fierce intellect. He likes that too. Admires her for her depth, not threatened by her mind like some men would be in the company of a Psychologist. Her Practice is a few blocks from here, she’s been in with a few of her clients. The Black Cat Café is discreet, comfortable, puts them at ease to open up to her. Cassie is okay with her doing some counselling sessions here. Now if she were a cat, she would be a sleek and elegant Russian Blue, him he’d be a Savannah. Chase still has a wild side. Cassie says she has yet to meet the woman could tame that one and if the ‘one’ ever arrives that will be the last we see of Chase around here.
“So Chase is a bit of a dark horse, a player then, Henry?”
Hard to tell. His eyes are fathomless. They may be blue. They may be grey. Depends on his mood. I have wondered if he, despite all his physical strength, is desperately trying to keep bad at bay. He isn’t easy to read. But I noticed that Venetia saw down into that deep dark well and into the hidden place where he keeps those old hungry and angry ghosts on lock down.
“Oh, that is rather deep, Henry. It takes a lot to bare one’s soul. Somethings we never admit to, even to ourselves. World stays safe that way.”
Yes, you are right. The unsaid ‘thing’ … He knew she knew... and he loved her for it but he just could not tell her. It was complicated. Humans, funny things. Felines are so much further along the evolutionary scale, cats say what we mean, mean what we say. Demand what is ours. Take it if necessary…
“What happened, Henry? Do you know?”
Of course I know, I’m a cat, I know everything and I was right there, under his feet! Saturday night he was sat on my couch knocking back Jack Daniels, Venetia was at a conference in New York and Chase was badly missing her, couldn’t sleep, he gets these nightmares. Cassie was upstairs visiting the land of dreams so I decided to keep an eye on things down here. He called her. Too much alcohol, both of them, and it all came tumbling out…unsaid words, finally said…And he got afraid. Of her. The truth. Possibilities. Life… And she was ashamed, she crossed a line, didn’t know how to go back… Pity really, They were so good for each other.
“But he is still with her, sat over there? They are both wearing wedding bands. Surely it didn’t end that night?”
No, it should have done. Been cleaner. Better for everyone, and no one would have got hurt. Instead he did the craziest thing and ‘let the Stranger in’, took up with Maggie. Caused a lot of complications around here. I don’t judge, but I didn’t like that. No, not one bit. Cassie was very upset by all the drama.
“Who is this other woman, Henry?”
She’s the innocent looking blue eyed blonde at the counter, watching them, whispering in Cassie’s ear yet again. …wish Cassie would unleash her claws on that one, but she’s standing there listening to her … And because Maggie is her sister, Cassie is believing all her lies…Hiss…I wish she would get the hell out of MY Café and back to her Five and Dime store!
“Oh Henry, what a surprising turn of events!”
I wasn’t surprised, saw it coming, he was meeting her in here, right at their table! She tries to emulate Venetia, her wit and her wisdom, but she just isn’t her. A perverse thing in him needed to regain control. Shut those ghosts up. Make his world safe again. So he chased and caught Maggie . Felt pleased with himself until he realised that the hunter became the hunted and Maggie was not for letting go or keeping things under wraps. But something deep inside whispered, then shouted. His soul cried for the woman he truly loved… But to be with her he would need to be true to himself, stripped bare. Accept what she could and could not give to him. Would he choose to do the inner work she was willing to help him do? Or would Chase cut loose?
“This Maggie must have have something. Some people cheat because they can, others cheat because there is something fundamentally missing in them and they are seeking integration through another person, trying to find a way to make themselves feel whole again. What do you think, Henry?”
Maggie is the first, Chase is the second. Venetia told Cassie in confidence that in her professional opinion Maggie has a Histrionic Personality Disorder. She needs a lot of attention, demanding more than Chase could, would or even should give her, didn’t see past herself and that he was hurting too… God, how was he hurting. As a psychologist Venetia knew both of them had issues and thought she could help them both through it… She just ended up getting burnt in the flames of her own desires.
“All very deep, Henry, do you think he will choose Maggie? Or Venetia ?”
Hmm…Neither…I am hoping he wakes up, smells the coffee and plumps for his long suffering, loyal and understanding wife!
“I thought you said they were already married, Henry?”
I did. They are…
…just not to each other…”it’s complicated”… I told you it was like a soap opera around here!
Chase is married …to Cassie…
“So Venetia is?…”
Venetia is Chase’s therapist and Maggie’s too and er, also her wife!
“So let me get this straight, Chase and Cassie, Chase and Venetia and Chase and Maggie?”