The Odd Days & Life of Elatha Jarlath McGhille. Part A. Eanáir ~ The one came in from the cold collaboration

A masterpiece!!

unbolt me

Guys, do you remember Elatha Jarlath McGhille? No? Okay! Don’t sweat it!

The most important thing is that you remember Gregory. His blog, cocktailmolly, supports independent artists, writers, poets… Greg pushes up young talents and does his best for the purpose of every new voice so they can be heard. But not many people know that Greg is a brilliant poet by himself. Yes, he does! You can believe on my bare word. (No? Can’t you believe me? You can check cocktailmolly and make sure that I’m not a liar!)

I’m lucky because I enjoy the privilege not only of reading Greg’s stunning works but collaborating with Greg! So, it’s the next part of our saga ‘The Odd Days & Life of Elatha Jarlath McGhille’. Ladies and Gentlemen! Take your plaids and thermoses! Today is pretty chilly…

raaf_home

This story starts where other stories end.
It was just…

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Where I would like to be…

if only my beautiful girl was with me ❤ (She knows who she is and I’m sure she is blushing right know too ❤ ) This is just a lake in Alaska but to me…… It reminds me of big open places and being with ones self. Believe me when I say… If you can’t love yourself…. you better not go alone and if you love yourself…. you will never be alone! or something like that…. LOL

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GUEST POST // Triune-Heart by Madam Marmoset

Wonderful work!! I hope to see more from this guest!

unbolt me

Pussy willow, pussy willow,
Where have you gone?
Hiding far away
From the madding throng.

Her feeble paw stretched out in a futile attempt to grab his attention. There was a new cat on the block, lean and lithe and graceful. The old cat had been ravaged by age and sorrow. Her face and body showed every single line of her life, every punch that had been thrown at her.

He sat there between his two lady loves, happy, content and blissful, blissful in the love that filled the room.

The old cat continued to stay lit upon his lap. He instinctively stroked her, tenderly, gently and often. She mewled and purred with pleasure.

The young newcomer quietly took up a position near the old cat. She was in sacred space now. The old cat was battered and bruised. Her beauty had been washed away by the tsunami of time…

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