Lynn is a recent acquaintance of mine and a refugee from the cold, wintery English weather so she has chosen to live in cold, wintery Austria instead.

Lynn and I met after she read some of my personal writings and was kind enough to comment and since then we have been keeping tabs on how each other has been getting on.

Lynn is far more “arty” than I am while multi tasking is second nature as Lynn combines motherhood with heavy metal loving sprogs, performing as a musician and actress together with translation work while playing the organ in unheated Austrian churches on Sundays.  Lynn also writes with whatever spare time she can muster.

So without permission (my own sole responsibility) with full attribution (Lynn Ford, 2008 The New Curiosity Shop) here is one of Lynn’s poems:

Over the Water.

At the moment of your death
The sea stood transfixed
As the pattern of your life
Fled brightly over the water.

But time’s great heart
Shuddered into motion
And the cold bell of grief
Began to toll.

Lynn:

This is my present to you and thank you for your kind comments on my own work.

 Writing brought Lynn and I together, and like so many other friends I have accumulated, my writing has attracted them to me as much as their own efforts at expression has attracted me to them.  A commercial, artistically challenged beast I may be but I know what I like.

ERH

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