29.6.17

tea and a rose-smoked moon



the shape of you is not the soul of you


I sit in my little house near the sea, surrounded by old books of poetry, while in my heart I walk cold hills with Emma and Richard. Music is playing quietly and the air fills with rose-scented incense smoke. I want a Turkish rug; I want someone to bring me tea in the cup I got from a long while's wishing. Outside, the svelte white moon sashays up through stars. There's a lot of talk lately about planets but I'd rather know what habitable places you have in the darkness behind your own heart.



3 comments:

  1. Oh my... the beauty of your words...
    Thank you xx

    ReplyDelete
  2. Love this, how beautiful these words are.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Mmmm, that last line. It's everything just now.

    ReplyDelete

MY BOOKS

In the quiet hours, the inbetween moments and the half-light, I sometimes like to write. My books are made from fairytale shadow and old magical songs. They speak about dreams, lost wishes, longing for something beyond the self, and always about love. You can learn about them here.

All words and images are copyright Sarah Elwell. Please do not reproduce, pin, or otherwise copy anything here without first receiving my permission. Thank you. This site uses cookies from Google to deliver its services, to personalise ads and to analyse traffic. Information about your use of this site is shared with Google. By using this site, you agree to its use of cookies. To learn more please visit this link