Dawn by E.R. Paget

Delicious light licks at the windowpane,
Piercing glass to filter and refract.
Eager it springs, darting into corners
So long sunk in darkness.

Under the watchful eye of an indulgent sun,
The shadows slant and prance,
Conducted by the light with an energetic hand,
To twirl and spin unbound.

Swathed in warmth, a room reborn,
Resurrected from the depths of the night.
Blessed it basks in the days’ sunlight
Waiting for the dark to return.

Falling by E.R. Paget

For her, it was
No risk at all,
To take a leap
Of faith so great,
Falling recklessly,
Into the dark.

This House by E.R. Paget

This house has stood for many years,
Walls deep and thick with dust,
Quietly soaking up the past,
These bricks so often touched.

In homage they hum and whisper
Of people dead and gone,
Stories and secrets set in stone
Once lived and now undone.

I hear them in the quiet of night,
These occupants of old,
Slipping softly room to room
The ghosts of tales untold.

They pass as shadows through the door,
Silently they roam,
Moving meekly with no malice,
Gracious, they share their home.

<strong>E.R. Paget</strong>
E.R. Paget

E.R. Paget lives and works in Scotland. The landscape and coast around her home inspire both her writing and photography. She often links her poems to the photographs she takes.

E.R. is passionate about her natural surroundings,
history, and the balance of light and dark in life. She shares some of her writing and photography on Instagram: @life_and_light_poetry


Don’t look back she said on the wobbling log. Stream an unstrung washing machine; leaves traffic cops redirecting the light.
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A Time Traveler’s Tale

I was nine, when the tectonic plates shifted between my parents. The buildings collapsed all around me, as I held my mother’s hand at 2 am, and slept at my neighbours. My body shrank inside the warm blanket, as if I was lying on a crescent shaped moon.
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If You Ever

If you ever remember me, By the falling of raindrops on Our forgotten words Do not let me bleed in pain, Make me bleed in poems.
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Shaping Water

I was a singer that could not sing a writer that could not write frozen in ice living in sub zero conditions with no knowledge of fire making
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Death is a Friend

If I am to know death as a friend and not a foe, I’ll take her hand and whisper, “I’ll never let you go.”
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Swirls of drape entwining veins of desires Slender fingers flipping pages of heart Twist of hues now vividly her eyes fires Infatuation thorns hold love apart
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Between Us

I talk to you of the distances between us. However not feeling one and still asking you, what’s between us?
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photo of an ocean shoreline to illustrate the poem entitled, Stronger


The land was green and crowned with grains Ocean tides rolled droplets of gold on the shores Birds roamed the heavens whispering melodies That resonated in our hearts;
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