Cottage o' my Heart

When they say me life has ended
An' my grave a nightdress be,
I will ha' strung a string of hours:
The pearls in finite sea.

Below each hour I have roomed
In a Home with walls of air ...
A floor o' Fire, a Ceiling of water,
An' a bit o' earth to Garden there ...

~ M. North


We buy our cottage today. A sweet Cape, close to markets for food, coffee shops to write in, and snug in a sweet neighborhood.

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Witchy Brew

Taking tea in my Garden

On a witchy ghoul Night.

From a Brew I stirred

By wan Candlelight.

~ M. North

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A Lace Shawl

It is really not so hard to imagine me. When you see my tintype, it will not be without a hint of what I am feeling, as I sat in the daguerreotypist's studio and tried not not to think of you. You must know I was, though. You must know I could not forget our daily walks in the garden, how you had plucked a rose for me. You complimented me on my needlework, something I didn't think you'd ever notice. So, I wore the lace shawl for you.

It is really not so difficult to imagine me and imagine what I was feeling. If you only tried.

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With kind regards

With kind regards to you and yours,

With thanks in kind to all,

With all I have I carry gratitude

And wait until you call.

~ M. North

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Before He Left

I met the knights at sunrise, for they were due to march out. I hadn't slept at all; I hadn't wanted to. I lay awake thinking of him and wondering ... did what he say at the banquet the other night be meant for me? I had to know if it was true. As I had to see him before he left.

"Take this!" was all I could say. There was no time. He was last in line and the gates were closing. I quickly removed my sash, as red as my heart that beat for him, and tied it around his arm. Then he looked at me.

Oh, the way he looked at me. As if to say, "I felt it, too."

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Love Only, Only Love I See

I took a walk by the Sea
I saw what became of Me:
I saw the Truth and Beauty
In Love, Love Only I see.

When I follow History
Look what becomes of Me.
See the Joy and Harmony
Of Grace and Simplicity.

We take walks by the Sea.
Two become one - You and Me.
Gardens, Pugs, and Family.
Love Only, Only Love I see.
~ M. North

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Reunion

For weeks, it had rained. I sat in my room staring at the gray droplets on the windowpane, touching the smooth glass. When your letter at last arrived, I could not bear to be without you. You had come home! Ah, no matter how short your army leave was, I had to see you. I had to be with you. Mother and my sister had gone out for the day, so when the servant announced you had arrived, I rushed down from my room to be in your arms.

Scarcely had I closed the door when you were there. I could not bear our parting any longer. I had tried, my love. I had tried. Stay with me and be with me. Do not leave again.

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Adrift

Adrift, I floated. My sweet pug Janie was my only companion, for she could understand how I felt. I wanted to feel happy for the good things life offered with golden treasures outstretched in welcoming arms to me. I wanted to feel grateful for the beautifully delicate moments that intertwined to produce something extraordinary, for it seemed to any outside eyes my dreams were coming true.

I paused in the small boat, smiling quietly at the familiar rock of the waves. Flowery perfume drifted from the pretty bouquet, and I fanned myself to add to the slight breeze. Janie's presence comforted me, as only her small snuggly self can. If I kept my eyes open, I could see the world blossoming.

Yet I was still adrift.

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Capturing

When you captured my image, you captured me. I sat in the window, smiling for you. I remember the happiness of the day, how we had gone motoring and you lost your favorite straw hat! My ribbons were frayed from the wind and I coughed from the dust, but you ... you had brought a picnic for us to share in the grass. I wonder if this photograph can capture the strawberry stain on my lips?

When you captured me, I loved you.

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Moonlight and Noun Parties

A cottage of Stone
An antique Book
A climbing Rose
A woman's Nook.
~ M. North

Thoughts of moonlighting today ... not of the beautiful pearled night-orb, but a cultivation of Industry, another name my beloved Victorians called work. I careen from hour to hour with a full cup of words in my head, like a verbal tea party where I pour vowels from teapots and stir adverbs with a spoon.

Combine the writing in my head, the Industry of a cottage moonlighting business, and the elusive real-dreams that are plucked, flower-like, from a creative mind to be set into the world.

I'm neither living as an author nor dying as a writer ...

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Sacred Magic

After I'd found a quiet spot, I played with the soft petals. If he wanted me to hear him with her, then why come here? Why bring her to our place, the star-lit grove? Did he think he could share what we have with another, that he could teach her what I already feel? The petals splayed out on my lap like a fan. I wondered how long before they wilted, before the flower died in my hands.


I don't think he knows the true magic of sacredness like I do.

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August Tears

I slipped back into that state he hated so much. The dreamy, eyes-far-away-in-clouds look he could never understand. My heart flew next to me, so real, so ready to be given to him. I stayed up long past the blue-day hours, wanting nothing but warmth.

Is there enough moonlight to comfort me?


*Art Print by Stiletto Heights

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Pemberley

On a summer morning I met him in the gardens outside his home. I was walking, like I do when the sun beats down golden-bright and the grasses wave their verdant perfume. He offered a gloved hand, and led me down by the pond. He did not swim, but I could picture his wet shirt clasping his back as he got out of the cool water.

Someday I know he'll propose.

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