Categories
POETRY Relationships SOUL WRITING & BLOGGING

Bones of Carrion

Image:Pixabay

…And so they come to feed, like raptors on your flesh until you are no more than the bones of carrion. You did not see them for what they were, until it was too late. Behind innocent eyes a deep sea of jealousy lies. There is no kindness in words that cut the fabric of a soul.

Eily Nash ~ 2020

✨My books are available as Paperback & Kindle editions from Amazon✨

Categories
micro fiction WRITING & BLOGGING

Enigmatic Eyes

Image:Pixabay

She was a Writer, weaving stories around the emotions she read in others. He was a charming enigma. Eyes, deep as the cold North sea. She searched their dark depths, looking for answers but chose to leave her unasked question hanging in the air.

Who or what had poisoned his heart to love? Would he tell? She doubted that. A mystery she would have to unravel, as with a greedy ear she anticipated listening to the tales he may or may not share.

Eily Nash ~ 2020

Find my books on http://www.amazon.com/author/eilynash 📚

Categories
WRITING & BLOGGING

Walk The Talk

Screenshot 2020-05-09 at 14.18.44

 

Mind, Body, Spirit… As humans, we need more than just food to fuel the body, we also need sustenance for the mind and our Spirit too. “Wellbeing” is a term that is increasingly coming into our awareness. Especially amongst our precious First Responders, who often have to face traumas in their daily lives most of us would never experience. Bodies are resilient, yet they can become depleted, tired and overwhelmed by circumstances. So too can our minds and then our Spirit.

Depth psychology is of huge interest to me. My daughter is an Alumni of Psychology at Regent’s University, London and my closest friend works in the field of mental and emotional health as a clinical Psychotherapist in Vancouver. As a writer, I explore depth psychology and the human condition through the lens of my characters’ experiences and inter personal relationships. In our household, we understand and integrate the concept of wholeness and wellbeing.

I was hugely excited to come across Dave Thomas on Twitter. With a career spanning over 20 years in the UK Police, he has vast experience dealing with the aftermath of both traumatic and emotional situations. The varied guests on his show share honest, raw and real accounts of their true life experiences as well as offering solid advice from professional viewpoints.

I have found all these stories absolutely riveting, as a listener becoming immersed in the diverse worlds of amazing people like  Lt Col Will Meddings, a Leader in the British Army, Bestselling Author & retired Police Commander, John Sutherland, Heart Transplant Recipient, Kate Hutchings (an absolutely awe inspiring woman.) The lovely Toni White, men’s mental health advocate, and many, many more.

And it is my great pleasure to introduce and share with my lovely readers worldwide Dave’s excellent Podcast show “WALK THE TALK”.

 

Screenshot 2020-05-10 at 17.30.33

 

Walk the Talk 999


Apple Podcasts

Deezer

iHeart

RadioPublic

RSS

Spotify

TuneIn

“Dave Thomas is a wonderful host and interviewer; his questions are “just right.” Dave leads his guests organically into each next point by holding the space for them and listening so that he makes it very easy for guests to stay in the flow of the topic at hand. As a psychotherapist who works with First Responders, I also appreciate that Dave keeps his police audience in mind, asking questions from their perspective and from his depth of police experience. Dave’s approach offers a solid combination of hard-earned knowledge and fresh curiosity, graciousness and open-minded exploration of new ideas. He sets the tone perfectly for guests to feel like they are in ‘good hands.'”

~ Dr Michelle Gibson, PhD, Vancouver, Canada

 

Categories
POEM POETRY WRITING & BLOGGING

ALEXANDER WALLIS

One of my favourite Authors is Alexander Wallis, his book ‘The Way Knight’ is simply the best Fantasy Novel I have read, he writes lyrical prose with such depth, making even the dark and dangerous beautiful. I found out he is also an accomplished poet and am so excited Alex is sharing his verse with us on Edendene Books.

 

 

Alex
Alexander Wallis

 

 

JUST AS A CANDLE

Just as a candle doth soft bestow its light

And cast about its promise, even deeper pools of night

Thus is a whispered knowledge, sweet insight

Cast without sound to make the heart excite.

Shadows like robes may clothe our souls tonight

Sorrows and foes may every moment blight

Yet stars have a constellation, to hope ignite

They do not chose, but know them at first sight.

 

 

THE VAMPIRE QUEEN LENORA

From the ancient castle sung

The vampire queen, Lenora.

Her song evoked the tragedies

Of every soul who saw her.

Ravens were her company

And spiders were her spies,

And by her side a blind man stood

Whose blood trailed from his eyes.

‘Oh, Lenora. Marry me!’

Her knight, Cervantes, dared.

He had scaled the battlements

Black roses in his pail.

‘Be not alone, for I have roamed

The kingdom in thy name.

Of all your knights, I love you best.

Deny me not – for shame.’

Lenora’s lips revealed her teeth

Her eyes sad as the grave,

‘Cervantes, do you see the man

Upon the palisade?’

Cervantes looked but only saw

A titan hewn from rock

‘But that is just a statue

And it has a cherub’s cock.’

The queen picked out a single rose

Plucked petals to the bone

‘I must possess me such a man

Be he God, or hewn from stone.’

‘Mi’lady,’ her brave champion growled

‘No perfect thing can love

For it is pain and weakness that

Stirs feelings from above.’

Lenora kissed her knight, ‘Good sir,

I do treasure your valour

But I must find the perfect king

Such as stands upon yon tower’

And so the knight stood lowly watch

While Lenora’s voice took flight

Both with longing in their hearts

In the dark song of the night.

 

 

WINTERS ROSE

Snow falls upon a rose

Season of immortality.

Winter’s kiss on frosty beauty

Petal and thorn adorned equally.

Snow and rose – a perfect moment

Ravaged by time and mortality.

Snow dies, young rose lives on

Will you remember me?

 

 

The Way Knight is available as both paperback & Kindle editions on Amazon

 

This was my review:-

“I am the crown of eternal stars, I am the armour forged from scars…”

Just finished reading this brilliant Dark Fantasy tale and am in awe of the author’s writing skill, it is a masterclass in storytelling.

This was my first foray into the dark fantasy genre and I was not sure if it would be for me, but from the first page I was gripped, staying up into the small hours reading, total immersed in the gothic and dystopian landscape, populated by rich characterisation.

The story centres around a young woman, Daimonia, who after a traumatic event sets off on a perilous quest to reconnect with her powerful Mother who is a Captain in a far flung Garrison. She is accompanied across a bloody and brutal landscape by Goodkin, a Way Knight, charged with protecting her and the other travellers in their company. There are powerful enemies and foes along the way. And thus the adventures begin.

I don’t want to give any plot spoilers, as the story is fast paced with each scene incredibly well written, the narrative is a flowing river of eloquent words. The ending is one of the best I have read. Totally griping. Following one of the most delicately written and emotive chapters in the book, it was a shocking and crashing crescendo. A totally unexpected finale and so satisyingly good.

The Way Knight is bloody, brutal, beautiful and brilliant. I loved it and the characters Daimonia and Goodkin stepped off the page and lit up my imagination. If it were possible to give 10 stars I would. Read for yourself. It is excellent!

Categories
POETRY Verse WRITING & BLOGGING

Nicole Wild

I am delighted to share the work of talented Poet, Nicole Wild, who has just published her first book, “Rooted:A Once Unchained Anthology” ~A collection of poems challenging modern perspectives on life, beautifully amplified by unique, creative flare.

Unchained1

 

 

 

CHANGE

Beast drapes his shoulders

His scornful mothers whipping tongue

Tells him he’s unlovable

“It’s he who’s the broken one”

Her death does come

He mans the gates with heavy guns

Believes he’s unlovable

“He’d only break someone”

They all got stuck here

Inside his long door’d corridors

Believing he’s unreasonable

“Not where love belongs”

Grace came to the gates

They were towering and safe

Believing she could move beyond

“Is this where I belong?”

Beast sees her eyes

She drinks deep his soul

His blood brings her love

“We’re no longer broken, we’re one.”

 

ABOUT ME

A shining world unseen

rivers, fishes and seas

in me

raging, coarsing, flooding

overwhelming, breaking seams

Earth my roots do love you

brambles, birds and trees

I see

soaring, growing, living

breathing hope, believe

Father sky I am yours

thunder, rain and air

I live

beneath, learn, concede

Unfolding plan, unseen.

 

Once Unchained 01
Nicole Wild

Visit Nicole’s website at unchainedinside.wordpress.com

Follow Nicole on Twitter @OnceUnchained

Nicole Wild rightly deserves the 5* reviews and praise received on Amazon.

The last line in this gorgeous anthology reads ‘We write to heal our souls’. My goodness, how through her poems, the author takes the reader on a journey, through the emotions that flow through the human heart. Her words are poignant, delicate, strong. And throughout you hear the call of an incredibly beautiful soul. I absolutely loved this book. Highly recommended.”

 

Categories
WRITING & BLOGGING

Bluebell Woods

I have a special place, the Bluebell woods. Time stands still when you visit the place of the Fey✨

Categories
WRITING WRITING & BLOGGING

Wychwood

Dear Readers,

A gift from me to you. I want to make my books freely available as we all work through the global challenges of Covid -19 and social distancing and self isolation. Amazon, who publish my books allow 5 free days. So this week I offer you a supernatural tale of a coercive relationship, where love triumphs over evil 💕

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B009DPANX2/ref=cm_sw_r_cp_awdb_t1_jePGEb4N2DG27

Categories
BOOKS WRITING & BLOGGING

Nightshades

Dear Readers,

Feel free to download for free the Kindle edition of my collection of short stories with a delicious hint of the supernatural ✨

📚Free on Amazon Kindle 📚

Categories
SPIRITUALITY WRITING & BLOGGING

MY LADY KATE

Gorgeous Image of the Crown of Lights from Pinterest

 

 

For my beautiful, inspirational friend, Katie, with respect, admiration and love

 

The Goddess of Creation in Her heavenly realms above beheld her golden daughter with such love. For she radiated both the light of the sun and the star strewn night.

“Come, my child, My Lady Kate, I have a quest for you. Sit with me for a while, listen to what I bid you do. For there are many souls upon the Earth below, my teachings of Love I wish for all, especially the lost and lonely, to know.”

The Lady Kate sat by the Great Mother’s side, to her words she did bide.

“By your free will, Daughter of the Skies, if you should agree to my request then know the path is mighty perilous and you will be put to the test. The rewards will cause your eternal Soul to sing, for such treasures of love, kindness and knowledge you will bring.”

Created from the spark of Divine Will, the Lady Kate sat very still and reverently listened to what she was asked to do. She understood that once she left her heavenly place, she would be guided always by Divine Grace. She saw her path was perilous indeed, yet she carried Humanity’s need. Through the very halls of Hell, she would have to go, for deep experience to get to know. Through all these travails she knew Angels watched over her from just beyond the veil.

“My most beloved Winter’s child, with your spirit so free and wild, know as you go forth to this human life there will be in the Plane of Duality both experiences of love and laughter, grief and strife.”

And so, the Goddess of Creation decreed with Father Sky and Mother Earth there would be a special birth. In perfect balance of day and night, dark and light, the Winter Solstice was written in the stars above, for the arrival of a Divine Child born of Love.

As the moon tides passed on by, the Divine Child began to understand why the Great Mother had sent her to this place, for many had forgotten they carried the seed of Grace.

Through rising high above her own trials and tribulations, Lady Kate inspired peoples from many nations. For when her known world burnt to the ground and dark destruction lay all around, she summoned Courage and with her eternal wings arose from the ashes of burnt out embers, a Phoenix Goddess and fearless warrior the World would always remember.

Courage, wisdom, kindness, love and laughter were the gifts she freely gave to others. She embodied all the Soul gifts given by her Divine Mother. She encouraged others to be brave and strong, to fight for right and challenge wrong. And those who held hate and jealousy were shown a better way that they could be. Compassion, the key for humanity to be truly free.

On the whisper of the wind, the song of the seas and wisdom of the trees she heard words that were for no other, the benediction and blessing of the Divine Mother.

“I will walk beside you all the way, through darkest night and brightest day. For you, my Winter’s Child will always wear my Crown of Light.”

~Eily Nash (2020)

 

 

I first heard of Katie Hutchings through listening to Dave Thomas’ superb podcast show ‘Walk the Talk’. As her true life story unfolded I was moved to tears and at the end in total awe of this amazing woman. I followed Katie on Twitter, along with 35.6k other followers, and continued to be inspired by just how wonderfully kind, funny, courageous and generous she is in selflessly giving encouragement and support to others. She champions not only heart transplant & organ donation but also many people from all over the world and their causes and we all love her for it.She is a Northern Goddess, who has done her parents, husband, children and family proud. I am honoured to be her friend.

I encourage you to listen to Katie’s journey to and through her heart transplant journey and life beyond.

Have tissues at the ready!

With grateful thanks to Dave Thomas for allowing me to share his show!

Categories
MAGIC OF NATURE NATURAL WORLD POETRY WRITING & BLOGGING

Tears From The Moon

With her company of stars, Lady La Luna rides across the northern sky. A benediction silently falls from her train of night, down upon a stricken Earth below.

Tears from the Moon, for Gaia’s lost children.

💫⭐️🌟✨🌛🌝🌜✨🌟⭐️💫

Find my books on

📚www.amazon.com/author/eilynash📚

Moon Goddess by Josephine Wall
Categories
POETRY Verse WRITING & BLOGGING

Spellbound

Spellbound, I held him in my arms✨ summonded by magick, candles and charms✨ Illusions of distance and linear time✨dispelled by a bewitching rhyme✨that which I desire shall be mine✨My Beloved will come to me✨So mote it be.✨

📚Find my books on

http://www.amazon.com/author/eilynash 📚

Categories
LOVE POETRY WRITING & BLOGGING

Hungry Howling

Wolf image from Pinterest

✨Find my books on Amazon✨

www.amazon.com/author/eilynash

Categories
POETRY WRITING & BLOGGING

Midnight Conversations

Categories
SHORT STORY SPIRITUALITY WRITING & BLOGGING

Fly High, Little Butterfly

It was a beautiful Spring day, blue skies and not a cloud in sight. Sun was bright in the Northern sky, glinting off tiny eggs lining soft Milkweed in the hedgerow. A kindly cow, stood watching. She had seen this magic many times before. From the eggs little hatchlings emerged. Not birds, nor snakes but caterpillars.

Hungry, they scattered over the leaves that had housed their homes and started to munch. They were voraciously hungry and intent on feeding empty bellies. Apart from one.

The little caterpillar started at the sight of the cow. The cow gave a low, reassuring ‘moo’.

‘Hello, youngster. Welcome to the world, my name is MayBelle’.

Shyly the caterpillar retreated under a leaf.

Each day the cow would amble over and say ‘Hello’. The caterpillar grew to love the warm greetings from such a magnificent beast. The cow would gently lower her head and let the caterpillar crawl onto her soft neck. They would both go for a wander across Ten Acre field and down to the babbling brook. The cow would take a long drink of pure Spring water and the caterpillar would watch the silver and gold of darting fish.

‘Dear MayBelle, can I feel the water like you do? Can I swim like the fishes too?’

‘’Not yet, M’Dear. But one day you will.’

The days and nights were full of delight. And MayBelle showed the young caterpillar many things. She spoke of life and love, beginnings, endings, both the Goddess and God above, Mother Earth and Father Sky. For being a wise cow, she had sought teaching from many sources and was not afraid to ask questions. A gift she passed to the little caterpillar.

One day MayBelle wandered over to the clumps of Ragwort the little Caterpillar had made home. Only to see the cycle of life had moved on. The wheel of the year began to turn again and her friend had entered into a deep sleep, wrapped in a warm cocoon. She smiled, knowing she had taught her pupil well.

The long sleep ended and the little caterpillar emerged. Refreshed and energised from such a deep and nourishing rest. And there was MayBelle, waiting.

The sun felt so good and the little Caterpillar basked in the warmth of both the celestial orb and her friend’s love. A sparrow hawk took to the wing and riding on the warm air currents glided gracefully across an azure sky.

‘Oh how I wish I could fly! MayBelle, do you wish you could fly too?’

‘Why, M’Dear, you can fly, just spread your beautiful wings and try! And as for me? Once you fly free, know my spirit will be with you and so I will fly too. ‘

The little caterpillar climbed on MayBelle’s soft face and the kindly cow wandered to the stream.

‘Look, M’Dear, what do you see? The things I taught you have come to be!’

In the glistening water, the little caterpillar caught sight of a beautiful butterfly, delicate wings fluttering in the breeze.

In awe she asked ‘Is that me?’

‘Go fly! Fly high, fly low. There is much to know. I always told you M’Dear there is so much more than we can see, so much more that we can be…’

~Eily Nash

Find my books on amazon.com/author/eilynash

Categories
POETRY WRITING & BLOGGING

Sweet Memories

I play our song on the piano, lyrics dancing in my head, sensuous and slow. Who knew those moments we shared so long ago, would one day live as sweet memories, long after love was dead.

Categories
Verse WRITING & BLOGGING

Eyes of the Witch

She saw deep into the souls of men.

Their secrets, fears, hopes and desires.

Such was the power of the witch.

She needed no obsidian skrying glass.

Some scorned her for her second sight.

Some found her an illuminating Light.

She cared not, for it was all the same in this game called life✨

~Eily Nash

✨My books are available on✨

amazon.com/author/eilynash

Image of Pythia ~Priestess of Delphi by John Collier (1891)

Categories
LOVE Relationships Verse WRITING & BLOGGING

Touch of a velvet glove

With the touch of a velvet glove

And iron fist of controlling love

Insidious fingers of such jealousy

Tarnished Knight, without chivalry

Rivers of tears, fair maiden did weep

For her soul was not yours to keep

She longed to walk in hallowed halls

But withered within your castle walls

~Eily Nash

Find my books on amazon.com/author/eilynash

Categories
POETRY WITCH WRITING WRITING & BLOGGING

Succubus Spell

I loved him well, I loved him true

Something he just could not do

For to lay with me would be a sin

I knew he longed to touch my skin

Yet he kept me so far out of reach

Scared his defences I may breach

Passion’s flame burnt in his chest

Lustful thoughts gave him no rest

At last, of free will he came to me

Torn, tormented by his own misery

My beloved Mortal slipped into my bed

Offering his body, I took his soul instead

And down we went to the depths of hell

For he had fallen for a Succubus spell.

~Eily Nash

Find my books on amazon.com/author/eilynash

Image from Dark Souls1 on Pixabay.com

Categories
WRITING & BLOGGING

Castles in the Sand

It was a beautiful time, constructing castles and creating a fairytale land. Until one day the sea of reality came crashing in and washed the magick clean away. There is no never ending story for that which is built upon sand…

Image from Kellepics @ Pixabay

Categories
WRITING & BLOGGING

Coffee Shop Tales #1

Hello there,

Henry the cat here with a little coffee time tale from my home at the ‘Black Cat Café’ in Providence, Rhode Island. My person Cassie owns the place. Whilst she is busy brewing and baking, I like to curl up on a cosy couch and people watch. Entertaining business for a fabulous feline with an interest in depth psychology.

A quiet Monday, mid morning and I saw her, one that left a mark. A woman of a certain age, nicely dressed and sat there on one of the big leather armchairs. She’d nabbed a place tucked in the corner of the coffee shop. I watched her nursing her cup of strong black coffee, pain etched on her face.

She did not she me. Her eyes were fixed on something or someone in her own private mind movie. I wondered what hurt she was reliving and was it somewhere back in time or a fresh memory? No matter, really. Heartache is heartache. It all hurts the same, be it old or new.

I padded over and jumped up on the seat beside her. Maybe I could help? Sometimes humans find it good to talk, especially to a handsome and understanding chap like myself.

She became aware of my presence and blinked away threatening tears as she came back into the space we shared. But the shutters were down. I had intruded on a private thing. It was if a huge wave of emotion had washed over me and I felt the full force of her pain. She knew and with a shock I realised she resented me for it.

She got up, without giving me a second glance, and walked away trailing her sadness behind her.

~Eily Nash

Categories
Fiction LONGREADS WRITING WRITING & BLOGGING

AN ANGEL CALLS

 

In 2012 I penned my first novel. It came from a place of pain. Seven years on I have grown both as a Writer and a person. I decided to revisit my book “Wychwood” and give it a re-write, detaching myself from the drama and writing as an observer. Although I received praise for the book I wanted to infuse it with more Grace, more Magic and occult layers. The Main Character has a new name Phaedra (Fay’dra) and I have introduced some new and more sinister characters.

This is Chapter One…

 

1 AN ANGEL CALLS

 

 

It is said that for every soul who walks upon the Earth a Guardian Angel is assigned ~ there are times the Angel may walk beside a soul, there are times the Angel may carry that soul and then there are times the Angel can only stand and watch and weep…

 

Midwinter. Dusk came stealthily creeping in, intent on stealing away the remains of the day. Fog descended over the grey London skyline, wrapping the Victorian villas in a numinous mist. White stucco coated walls that had shone in the harsh glint of winter sunlight now took on a ghostly air. Comforting coals burning in the hearths within cast a warm glow through opaque windowpanes, orange eyes keeping watch on a cold, dark night. ‘Fire light, fire bright, all is well tonight.’ Smoke snaking from tall chimney pots into the chill air warned any gathering preternatural creatures of darkness to stay away.  As dusk succumbed to night’s embrace, the fog began to lift, revealing a star-studded sky. Lights were extinguished and weary folk made their way gratefully to bed, giving thanks to the Lord for the day that was done and the morrow yet to come. One house stood apart from the camaraderie of its neighbours, no warmth or light was to be found within its walls. The interior of number four was just as bleak as its cold, nocturnal façade. Winter’s icy fingers reached into the very heart of the despondent house, into a cavernous bedroom dressed in heavy furniture from a bygone century back when the house was proud and new. A huge mahogany bedstead, barely discernible in the gloom, rose as a dark island in a sea of darkness. Centre stage was given to a huge black Victorian cast iron fireplace, inset with tiles glazed with an elegant William Morris floral design. It was too dim to appreciate the contrast of the beautiful pure white flowers, against the blackness of the cold and empty hearth. Lilies for the departed soul now restored to innocence after death. The room was out of step with the modern world unfolding beyond its ornate walls patterned in rich shades of gold and teal. Heavy jade brocade curtains dressed the window, although slightly closed they admitted a pale sliver of light to slyly come creeping in and illuminate the scene within the room.

From the remoteness of the huge bed, a young child sat up, big hazel eyes wide open, scanning the room for a phantasmagorical Presence she could sense hiding somewhere in the shadows. She drew an eiderdown tightly around her tiny body, tucking the edges under her trembling chin. The big bulky frame of her Father lay beside the little girl. He was sleeping, lost in Morpheus’ arms with heavy breathing reverberating around the room, chasing away the creeping silence. Shadows danced along the walls, thrown up by arbitrary moonbeams. A gilded mirror hung above the fireplace and the child was mesmerised by the forms within its silvery depths.

At bedtime Phaedra loved to curl up with a book of fairy tales enchanting her. She imagined the ethereal creatures from the pages, elves and goblins, fairies, centaurs, unicorns, talking owls, nightingales and brave Knights and beautiful Princesses were all living in the mirror, inhabitants of a world within worlds. As another ray of capricious moonlight fell across the Oak floor, it illuminated a pale, languid, crumpled body. Comatose, the flaccid form lay curled in a foetal position, an almost empty brandy bottle clutched in a lifeless hand. A malevolent shape crouched beside the figure. Both were reflected in the mirror. Seeing the Presence, she had sensed, the child let a strangled sob escape into the gloom, alerting the man. Startled, he scanned the room and assuring himself and his tiny daughter that nothing was amiss, he urged her to snuggle down and sleep. His wife was where he had left her, on the floor. Having witnessed the same drug and alcohol induced scene for far too long and powerless to change things, he had ceased to care a long time ago. Defiantly, the child shook her head, soft auburn ringlets swaying around her little heart shaped face, eyes luminous and anxious.

‘Daddy, the thing is here again! It is sitting next to Mummy!’

‘There is no thing, it is just the shadows.’

‘I can see it in the mirror, flashing dark eyes with red sparks burning like hot coals, Oh Daddy!’

‘Phae, it is just the reflection of the embers in the fireplace.’

‘Daddy the fire is out. Mummy is cold, laying there on the floor, does she need a blanket?’ She enquired tentatively. ‘Why is Mummy on the floor again, and not snuggling up with us like she used to. Why is that scary thing next to her?’

‘Oh, that thing? That’s just Mummy’s shadow friend.’ With tired indifference, he humoured her, eager to go back to sleep. His once beautiful wife’s modelling career had paid handsomely but come at a terrible toll with easy access to drink and drugs and the descent into oblivion and addiction.

‘Shall we cover Mummy to keep her warm? She may be afraid of the dark and are you sure the thing is a friend?’ She persisted.

So many questions, so few answers. Thinly veiling his feelings of revulsion and contempt, voice laden with disgust, the weary man offered comfort ‘The floor is where Mummy and her shadow friend belong, go back to dreamland, Phaedra.’ Then kissing her on the tip of her nose, he rolled over and went back to sleep.

The little girl burrowed under the covers and lay down with her tiny face snuggling into her Daddy’s warm back. Mummy was fine, Daddy knew best. Her worries alleviated she slept the rest of the night comforted by the deep sleep of the innocent. In her dreams, the child called for an Angel, an Angel of Love and Light to come and take the thing away and keep Mummy warm. And the Angel hearing her call, came.

In the hours that lay on the cusp of night and day, a luminous golden radiance bathed the room and an Angel, with benevolent arms outstretched, stepped out into the gloom. He held a gossamer blanket, woven from the light of the stars from the heavens above. With a gentle touch He wrapped the child’s Mother in love and light and tenderness. For the Angel knew, just as the child knew, that the woman although bound by addictions was still deserving of love and compassion.

‘She is mine!’ Hissed a misshapen demonic form.

‘No! She is His.’ Serene cobalt blue eyes looked heavenwards. The Angel knew whilst barricaded into her own pain, it would take a lifetime to free the woman from her tormentor and captor. How long that life would be was written in the stars, yet the Angel was prepared to fight the demon for her eternal Soul.

The demon’s dark eyes flashed red sparks of pure malice and it pushed the brandy bottle across the floorboards. The woman stirred and through a haze she reached for the bottle and taking it from him she drained the last dregs. In his clawed hand the demon held a fresh bottle. The woman lunged at him, eager to feed her addiction.

‘It is yours, but not whilst you clutch at that useless thing!’ it spat in loathing, pointing his gnarled claw at the blanket of Light.

The blanket of Light felt good and through the haze of drugs and alcohol the woman knew she should keep a tight hold.

‘Go away!’ She cried, wrapping the blanket tightly around her body. Grace washed over her and soothed her unquiet soul into a deep and peaceful sleep where the demon could not reach her.

The demon spewed fire and brimstone. ‘If I do not take the mother, I shall return for the child!’ it hissed at the Angel, before its malignant form dissipated into the darkness, along with the stench of stale alcohol and bitter pungency of opiates pervading the air.

The Angel prayed silently and bestowed a quiet benediction over the child and her lost Mother and the man who had long forgotten the truth, as he slept in his warm bed whilst the woman he once loved and had lost her way, lay on the cold floor.

A fragrant blend of frankincense and attar of roses filled the room. The man did not smell the perfume purifying the space around him, his child and his wife. Nor did he see the celestial blanket of stars woven with the Light of Heaven wrapped around her. He did not see the pure white lily the Angel had placed in the woman’s hand when she took away the empty bottle.

He did not see the Angel of Light standing at the foot of the bed, waiting. The demon would return. The woman would try to fight. Without the help of the man her redemption would only come the other side of the veil. The man could not see these things, for he too was enslaved by his own addictions and unable to feel the Presence of God when an Angel calls.

And so, the Angel stood and wept.

~~~♥♥♥~~~

 

Eily Nash~2019

 

Thank you for reading.

The Original version will remain in print as I work on my new version.

 

Categories
FICTION & POETRY OCCULT WRITING & BLOGGING

Call of the Moon

“An it harm none, do as thou wilt”

When the grapefruit moon is ripe and full

Then you will feel Selene’s power and pull

Summoned by her words within your head

The sensual Sorceress calls you to her bed

Thrice she has conjured magic and charms

Four will never be, twill will cause you harm

Forget now loving deeds that are long done

Take heed, forget or you’ll become undone

The spell is broken, The Lady sets you free

Her bewitched Love, find your own destiny

✨ Blessed Be ✨

🌙Eily Nash~2019 💫

Beautiful image from Pixabay🖤

Categories
FICTION & POETRY POEM POETRY Verse WRITING & BLOGGING

Burning Flame

Beguiled by my burning flame

Little moth, play your game

Beware what you seek from me

My fire burns with the intensity

To destroy you and your desire

For I am forged from hell fire.

Categories
FICTION & POETRY POETRY WRITING & BLOGGING

Firebirds

Firebird Gif: WordPress

Firebird image: Pixabay

Categories
OCCULT WRITING WRITING & BLOGGING

Dark Heart of Night

Darkness falls.

The witching hour calls.

That which has been constrained by chains of day, is unleashed into the dark heart of night.

Born of a thousand stars and the fires of hell. She is incandescent, infernal Light.

In dreams she comes to you. Invades your thoughts, willingly you invite her into your bed. Excited by a demon lover, your body enflamed by her touch. You succumb to her dark charms.

There is no escape from that which has been made manifest by your own deep, dark desires.

Pray for the light of dawn and breaking of the day, lest the Succubus feeds her voracious hunger, devours your heart and carries your very soul away to be consumed in flames of the endless abyss.

Categories
WRITING & BLOGGING

Cosmic Dust

Where did He begin and She end?

The Alpha and Omega of Soul Love

Creating a bridge across forever

Two hearts entwined as Twin flames

Until one let the Stranger in …

She came as a comet blazing a trail

Through their sun, moons and stars

Tearing their solar system apart

And the other?

Violently flung out of Love’s orbit

Heartbroken

Trust disintegrated

Into cosmic dust

Leaving a broken world

Lost on a sea of infinity…

Categories
FICTION & POETRY WRITING & BLOGGING

Summer Rain

The night air is sultry and Jasmine scents the night garden,

Sky clad she stands beneath a strawberry moon,

Hot skin kissed cool by the caress of soft summer rain…

A blessing from the sky gods✨

Categories
FICTION & POETRY POEM POETRY SOUL WRITING & BLOGGING

Many Paths

Image: Giphy

Her soul journey had been long

Many paths had left their mark

The Sacred, liminal & the arcane

Through the Light and the Dark

She had met both right & wrong

But refused to greet the profane…

~Eily Nash

Categories
FICTION & POETRY Uncategorized WRITING & BLOGGING

Secrets of the Night

Screenshot 2019-06-19 at 13.20.57.png

Categories
FICTION & POETRY POETRY Uncategorized WRITING & BLOGGING

Broken Dreams

Screenshot 2019-06-19 at 12.44.59

Categories
MAGICK POEM POETRY Uncategorized WRITING & BLOGGING

Magick in her Hands

 

aaaaa1
Image from my personal Tarot collection ~The Celtic Tarot

 

By kiss of night

And soft starlight

In a gossamer gown

She stood entranced

Invoking triple trinity

Magick in her hands

A whispered invocation

Drawing down The Moon

 

 

~Eily Nash

Categories
LOVE MAGIC POEM POETRY Uncategorized WRITING WRITING & BLOGGING

Driftwood

abab
‘By Power of the Night
And bright Moon Light
On shifting sands of time
Let my True Love be mine!’
From his lonely shore he did not hear the siren’s’ plea.
Her words returned…
Driftwood, on the ebb-tide of the sea.
~Eily Nash
Categories
OCCULT SHORT STORY Uncategorized WRITING & BLOGGING

The Lord of Mendacity

IMG_8056
Image: GIF

 

The Lord of the Manor kept his secrets,

locked within the dark recesses of his cheating black heart.

There were many mistresses, trysts and love affairs .

Yet, without shame he avowed to his Lady his undying devotion,

eternal fidelity and love for her and her alone.

As he looked deeply into the black mirrors that were her obsidian eyes,

he swore let death take him if he were ever untrue.

Morgana was versed in magickal arts.

They say the eyes are a window to the soul.

When she looked at him, she knew what to do,

she saw retribution reflected back at her in his empty, lying eyes…

And thus, his Lordship came to his final resting place,

not in the sumptuous marital chamber within the Manor House,

but in ignoble and unhallowed ground.

Buried under the weight of the cold cruel earth…

and his own mendacity.

 

 

~Eily Nash

Categories
POEM POETRY Uncategorized WRITING WRITING & BLOGGING

Wisdom of the Fae

Wandering in the woods today,

I heard the wisdom of the Fae,

“Beware the games people play!”

How true, the untruths people say!

Tinkling laughter, so bright & gay.

Smiling,  I went merrily on my way.

 

~Eily Nash

 

🌺🌳🥀🐝🧚‍♀️🦋🐛🦄🍄

D47Oo87WAAIS-g8
Isn’t she just Precious?! Fairy by Arthur Rackham.

 

Categories
POETRY WRITING & BLOGGING

River of Eternal Dreams

Categories
WRITING & BLOGGING

The Veil

Poetry lifts the veil from the hidden beauty of the world, and makes familiar objects be as if they were not familiar ~ Percy Bysshe Shelley

 

Veiled Lady -Raffaele Monti

Categories
POEM POETRY SOUL SPIRITUALITY WRITING & BLOGGING

Born to be Free

She was both a gentle breeze on a soft summer day and the raging wild west wind.

What hope had he of taming her when she was born to be free…

 

 

Categories
MAGICK MAGIK WRITING & BLOGGING

Silver Scissors

 

Image:Pixabay

 

No longer sensing her Presence by his side,

the dark Mage vainly searched

the ethers for the witch’s Essence.

For that which magick engendered

had disappeared as a thief into the night.

Silver scissors cut the cords

and silken ties became undone

in all directions of time.

 

Eily Nash

Categories
OCCULT POEM POETRY SAD VALENTINE SHORT STORY Uncategorized WRITING & BLOGGING

Dark Angel

Categories
Dark Verse FICTION & POETRY GOTHIC LOVE POEM POETRY Uncategorized WRITING & BLOGGING

Strange Love

When the pain became too much to bear,

He banished her to the dark recesses of his mind.

By being viciously unkind he could pretend to himself he didn’t care.

But she knew, and let him be, for such was their strange love. 

 

yyyyy
Image:Pixbay

 

Eily Nash

Categories
LOVE POEM POETRY SOUL WRITING & BLOGGING

His Eyes

His fathomless eyes

Spoke to her soul

Louder and deeper

Than any words…

Categories
WRITING & BLOGGING

Dancing Demons

‘When demons come dancing in your dreams,I will banish them!’ Vivica reassured her human lover.

Through the ethers she flew, piercing the veil of nightmares to sprinkle oil of Anise on the fabric of his tormented mind.

And so, with arcane arts, the wise witch brought comfort to Chandler’s lonely bed.

~Eily Nash~

Painting ‘Witches on the Sabbath’ (1878) Luis Ricardo Falero

Rather comely wenches…

Anise. Good for banishing malevolent spirits. Equally good as a yummy liqueur: Arak,Ouzo, Sambuca et al… but methinks a drop or two of the old Absinthe and those naughty demons may well be joining you!!

Categories
WRITING & BLOGGING

Lady of Light, Lady of Night

The Lady beguiles you

Intrigued you draw near

She is a paradox

Of Light and Dark

Kissed by golden sunlight

And the midnight hour

Of black witchcraft

 

★☆★☆★

 

She is both heavenly Angel

And a hellfire Demon

If you wish to know her

Please proceed carefully 

For what you think you see

May just be enchantment

For nothing is as it truly seems

Life a dream within a dream

 

★☆★☆★

 

Dare beckon her at the witching hour

You summoned, now feel her power

No longer in control

Lost to lust and love

Beguiled by Beauty

Bewitched  by Spell craft

★☆★☆★

 

Image by Enrique Meseguer from Pixabay
Categories
POEM POETRY Uncategorized WRITING & BLOGGING

The Precipice

Beautiful image: Pixabay.com

The precipice, a perilous place, far beyond the safe confines of the city walls and the hinterlands of right and wrong.

Inexorably pulled to the edge of decision, Chase stood hypnotised by angry crashing waves, pounding heart beats upon a lonely shore.

Far out to sea, he heard her call. Siren. Temptress. One leap forward into the unknown, falling, tumbling into her dark depths and he would be free to ride upon passion’s tumultuous waves.

Or one step back from the beckoning, beguiling edge of danger…one step back into the barren wastelands of his life.

Eily Nash ~2019

Categories
MAGICK MAGIK POEM POETRY Uncategorized WRITING & BLOGGING

Sky Clad Skin

 

woman-1987808_1920
Image by Efes Kitap from Pixabay

 

Firm upon the rich dark earth I do stand,

My seeking arms reaching up to touch dove grey skies.

Softly, slowly raindrops fall and still I call.

Dancing, chanting, singing, weaving until

A sheet of rain falls down upon my silken sky clad skin.

With a singing heart, this child of Gaia smiles,

Showered by love and blessings  from above

Knowing she has summoned, you…

Her one true love.

 

© Eily Nash

Categories
POEM POETRY Uncategorized WRITING & BLOGGING

Hellfire

Beguiled by my burning flame

Little moth, play your game

Beware what you seek from me

My fire burns with the intensity

To destroy you and your desire

For I am forged from hell fire.

 

© Eily Nash

fantasy-2337179_1920
Image by Stefan Keller from Pixabay

Categories
POEM POETRY Uncategorized WRITING & BLOGGING

Drunk on Love

person lying on bed holding blanket
Photo by Daria Shevtsova on Pexels.com

 

Night ends with

A kiss, a promise

You have gone

Your sensuous scent 

Lingers on my skin

Leaving me Intoxicated 

Drunk on Love for you …

© Eily Nash

Categories
POEM POETRY Uncategorized WRITING & BLOGGING

Rose from a Lover

IMG_6689
Black Rose courtesy of my talented son Ryan Nash

 

 

My true love gave to me a rose.

Intoxicated by the sweetness of its scent 

I did not feel the thorns ripping my flesh,

Until my soul fled…

Leaving my wounded heart to bleed.

 

 

 

© Eily Nash

Categories
LIFE Uncategorized WRITING & BLOGGING

FEELING PRESENCES

blur cemetery colors cross
Photo by mali maeder on Pexels.com

 

Feeling Presences: a little true story…

There is a woman I used to know  Eloise, I helped her a lot with stuff over the years, younger husband falling for a younger woman, his cheating, the divorce that ensued and an old lover who put in a reappearance in more than one way…

Back in the day the love of her life, Carter, treated her badly, preferring bikes, beer and mates. They split but she never really loved anyone like him. Years roll on and they meet and seeing she is (as she supposes) happily married they stay just friends, with the occasional benefit. He wants her back but she knows it would not work. The friendly beers with the boys had long ago turned into addiction.He was a highly functioning alchoholic.

Anyhow, he died suddenly, his once fit body ravaged by years of abuse gave out way too soon. She was heartbroken. Came to see me for tea and sympathy and maybe hoping I may get my Tarot cards out. There was no need, as  Eloise walked into my kitchen, Carter came in too!

I saw him as a large grey shadow by her side. I could ‘sense’ what he looked like but not see him other than this very tall, grey shadowy  shape. I told her he was there and where he was standing. 

She said she knew, she felt him come in too and hoped he would give me a message for her. 

Then to my shame something happened I regretted.  This was years ago and I didn’t know how to use the ‘gift’. 

I heard him inside my head, his voice. Wanting me to connect my energy with him to let her Know he was OK. 

I was scared I would not get rid of him, so I closed down. But not before  he told me to let her know he had loved her, she had been his true love, the love of his life and he had thrown it away. I thought Eloise would be hugely upset, but she wasn’t, his words were what she needed to hear to lay the ghosts of their past to rest. Eloise left and she was  happy…Until the husband’s skulduggery came to light, but that is a private matter, not my story to tell.

Now many years have passed, and many Spirit visitors later, I do know how to send them on their way, just always feel bad about that one!

The spooky stuff that has really happened to me, I have enough to write a book and not one of my usual fictional ones!! Maybe I shall…one day.

 

© Eily Nash

Categories
LOVE POEM POETRY Uncategorized WRITING & BLOGGING

Word Weaver

flower roses red roses bloom
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

 

 

Taking silken gossamer threads

The word weaver wove them into 

A beautiful sensual illusion of Love

Until the fabric of dreams lay

Tattered and torn on vicious thorns 

Of reality…

© Eily Nash ~2019

Categories
WRITING WRITING & BLOGGING

The tale of the 40D’s and Tiffany’s 😉

O’er, my Beloved’s thoughtless treat has caused me such distress. He has given given me a bucket full of manky stress 🙁

Dear Eily, what could make you so mad. Has your man been really bad??!😡

Well listen up, M’dears with eager ears…

‘Darling, I am going to gift you a Premier 24 hour Membership to the gym with me!’ Says he, a touch too gleefully.🏋️‍♀️🤼‍♀️🚴‍♀️🏊‍♀️

I trembled, I shook. Sweaty excercise, so not in my book!

‘Er, no! ‘ says I ‘that would make me cry. I am lush & lovely as I am. Don’t you appreciate my gorgeous assets, 40D … do you want to shrink me?? ‘

I saw the thoughts whirl in his head…As I invited him to snuggle up and watch my favourite movie in our king size bed.

‘Oh no my Love, what would you prefer instead?’

‘Beloved, I don’t want to throw my toys from my pram, but I’d rather like a shiny, Sparkly something. Nothing grand, a bracelet for my hand. I’m feeling a tiny luxury, maybe a little trinket from Tiffany’s!’ 💍💝💎

His face lit up in a big smile, ‘The 40D’s are here to stay, both yummy breakfast in bed and the Tiffany trinkets are on the way!!’

~Eily Nash

Image: From the Tiffany Shop

✨Find my books on Amazon ✨

www.amazon.com/author/eilynash

From the Tiffany Store 💕

l

Categories
SPIRITUALITY Uncategorized WRITING & BLOGGING

Those Blue Eyes

man-1519667_1920
Image by intographics from Pixabay

 

They say that eyes are the window to the soul. This is a true story about a pair of blue eyes I once saw and never, ever forgot.

An ordinary day, an ordinary shopping mall. I was weighed down, not by shopping, but those concerns life throws at us time to time, heavy burdens we have to carry because there is no one else can take them from us. And if they did? Would we loose valuable life lessons? Only the passage of time, experience and the growth self awareness will tell.

So there I was, walking along alone, lost in thoughts. From a long way off I was aware of Him. Call it charisma, personal magnetism, kismet…I was brought back into the here and now with a powerful pull. He was beautiful, those eyes, those mesmerising eyes. They were a shade of cobalt blue I absolutely adore. I was all at once transfixed and shy, desperately wanting to go and say ‘Hi, how are you?’ But I couldn’t. Rooted to the spot, I watched him glide by, and something passed in his eyes. He looked at me and I at him and I just had an overwhelming sense of ‘knowing’ and a feeling of total and unconditional love, something that had been in short supply for a very long time. His body may have been broken. His Soul Light was mesmerising in it’s intensity!

He was maybe seventy years old, white hair and beard covering a tanned, weather beaten face. I no longer remember what he wore, just that his legs had been removed below the knee and he guided his wheelchair skilfully through the throng of people. I so wished I had chased after him, spoken, asked questions…But…

Many times I hoped I would see him again, in a small town you do tend to see the same ‘faces’ but I never did. I never forgot those cobalt eyes. He became the inspiration for Peter Cabot, Doctor and Spirit Guide, in my book ‘Wychwood’.

That day I believe I was touched by an Angel…And my personal burdens were somehow so much lighter.

An Angel with blue eyes, incredible cobalt blue eyes…

 

Categories
SPIRITUALITY Uncategorized WRITING WRITING & BLOGGING

The Broken Heart

feather-1598306_1920
Image by A_Different_Perspective from Pixabay

 

Phaedra woke with a start. Her heart shape face was wet with tears, the dream still hanging vivid and lucid in the room. Tears falling for the hurt child within this woman, tears falling for the passage of so many years, filled with too many hurts. Tears falling for all those other souls in pain, whose hearts also ached from so much sorrow.

Phaedra woke with a start. Her heart shape face was wet with tears, the dream still hanging vivid and lucid in the room. Tears falling for the hurt child within this woman, tears falling for the passage of so many years, filled with too many hurts. Tears falling for all those other souls in pain, whose hearts also ached from so much sorrow.

Closing her eyes, she became aware of a soothing sensation, as if gentle soft hands were caressing her face, wiping away the tears, stroking her hair, as one would a child. She felt strong hands remove her evil husband’s grasp from her body. In her mind’s eye, within that special screen where clairvoyant scenes had played since as long as she could remember, an image began to form;-

On a black velvet pillow, a red organic mass, which she knew to be her heart, lay pumping and pulsating erratically, weak feeble beats alternating with rapid panic-stricken throbs. The tubes and arteries extended out across the darkness, connected to nothing, going nowhere. Blackened and wizened at the extremities. The heart was whole, but slowly cracks and fissures appeared rending it apart, huge chasms ripping the breaking heart asunder from the ventricles which fed it leaked weak rivulets of blood. The erratic beats started to slow, the pulsations now just involuntary spasms, the heart was dying and darkness was closing in. Then a voice, clear, strong, and powerful reverberated in the dark theatre of her mind,

‘This is your pain born of this lifetime, these are your wounds.’

A pair of hands appeared over the stricken heart. Hovering over the heart drawing and pulling dark, shadowy shapes and forms from the crippled organ. As each dark mass was pulled forth, a fissure closed, the chasms began to shrink. The hands were now pulsating, beaming a high frequency of energy emitting particles of vibrant white light. Piece by sorry piece the torn and rent heart began to meld together. The hands of light picked up the heart from the blood soaked black velvet pillow and gently encased it within a warm and healing embrace.

Phaedra now clearly saw her strong, healthy heart. It was whole, complete, and no longer beating in the blackness, but held in radiant golden light. Suddenly filled with an electric jolt she felt the heart placed into her own body. The hands of light were now golden and held together in the prayer position. They slowly unfolded to reveal a holographic slideshow, of many people, times and places. The scenes played out and once again, the voice resonated over the moving picture show with the words:-

‘I have taken and healed your pain

Torn the hurst of many lifetimes

from the recesses of your heart’

As words and images faded away in a violet haze, Phaedra felt the soft brush of an Angel’s wing…Opening her eyes she saw a small white feather fluttering to the floor.

 

©Eily Nash 2012

Thank you for reading this short extract from my book “Wychwood”

 

Categories
POEM POETRY Uncategorized Verse WRITING & BLOGGING

Silent Scream

Lonely heart.jpg
Beautiful Image by Kellepics on Pixabay

 

Lost in the forests of the night

No sun, no moon or soft starlight

Lonely life but a waking dream

No one hears the silent scream

Searching for the hand of Grace

Reaching down to this heavy place

Fragile heart broken beyond repair

Fragments scattering into the air

Fall bleeding onto the forest floor

Broken body and lost soul no more

 

Eily Nash~2019

Categories
POETRY Verse WRITING & BLOGGING

If …

If I asked you to dance

Would you dance with me?

If I asked you to sing

Would you sing to my tune?

If I asked you heal me

Would you heal your scars?

If I asked you to kiss me

Would we touch the stars?

If I asked do you love me

Would it be too soon?

Eily Nash ~2019

Categories
SHORT STORY Uncategorized WRITER WRITING WRITING & BLOGGING

Almost Certain Death 

Please welcome a very special guest writer to EdenDene Books, my talented 15 year old son Ryan Nash. Here is Chapter One of a spooky tale, just right for a cold winter’s night!

 

Chapter 1: Almost Certain Death 

I remember it well, now there were two boys they came tearing around the corner in complete fear and terror. I didn’t really understand what exactly they were running from as it was in a dark, narrow, treelined passage. I heard heavy footsteps getting louder and louder from around the corner. I felt as if I was about to find out what the boys were running from.

Then a loud spine-chilling roar came from around the corner and everyone froze. The two boys slowly turned around. A tall dark silhouette stepped out of the shadows as a thick supernatural mist rose from the ground. The footsteps became increasingly louder and louder. I became frozen with fear as the shadow grew. 

The two boys began to run and barged past me with brute force. But, I, I was still completely frozen. I wanted to run but it felt like there was a force that was holding me back. I physically and mentally couldn’t bring myself to do it. Suddenly silence descended, all I could hear was the beating of my heart like waves crashing on a rocky shore. Electricity crackled in the air as the suspense grew even more. I looked back up the shadow… was gone. 

The mist began to clear up I couldn’t believe my eyes, in its place was a small kitten sitting there cleaning its paws. The small black cat looked up at me and it had deep blood red eyes. It winked at me and scurried away back around the corner.

I was so stunned by what had just happened and I knew there was much more to it all than just a small innocent creature because the shadow and the vicious roaring was so much more than a kitten could have caused. Just everything about the situation seemed off, why would two teenage boys run away in fear and terror from something so fragile and timid as a kitten? I couldn’t wrap my head around it. I wanted to find out what that kitten really was I wanted to find out the truth about why those boys were so terrified. My curiosity had gotten the better of me once again as I decided to follow the kitten even knowing that it might be something so much more… supernatural… then a kitten. I began to walk forward going down the dark avenue for trees and around the corner. I couldn’t quite see what was further down the passage looked like an endless narrow path covered in overgrown vegetation and vines. 

I had been walking for about twenty minutes when I saw a light at the end of the passage. It looked like an opening to another place, another universe. I felt a warm breeze coming for the opening at the end of the passage. As I got closer to the end of the passage, I could see the small kitten sitting, looking into the distance. I began to slowly edge myself toward the kitten, but I stepped on a stick which alerted the kitten that it had company. The kitten twitched its ear and slowly turned its head. When the kitten looked up at me, so my eyes met its and I felt like it was staring into my soul but instead of feeling immense fear like I did earlier I was flooded with a sense of calm and weightlessness. 

The kitten tilted its head slightly and slowly looked away, but as I begun to walk towards it and close the distance between us the kitten got up and slowly walked away from me, yet again going around another corner breaking my line of sight with it. As I came to the very end of the passage what I saw was breath taking. It was indeed like an alternate universe before I was just speculating the thought, but it really was. The sky was red and the sun or what I think was the sun was deep ocean blue.

I looked in front of me and it looked like a forest of some sort the trees were black with red leaves. I looked over and the kitten was sitting by a tree looking up at the sky again. The kitten got up and walked behind the tree but, what came out of the other side of the tree was no kitten. A young man with black hair and deep blood red eyes stood in the place of where the kitten once was. 

‘I knew it!’ I said to myself. I knew that the kitten was something more than a kitten I just didn’t expect the kitten to be a man. He stood tall looking back up at the sky, I walked over toward him intrigued as to who or what he was.

 

© Ryan Nash ~2018

Categories
WRITING & BLOGGING

Mysteries of Love

people-3214687_1920.jpg
Image: Pixabay.com

 

With his beautiful mind and stellar intellect, Helios was an adept of depth psychology reading people like the pages in a book. 

But  when it came to her, unable to decipher his own  feelings, the Supernova that was Elara remained an enigma, and so the mysteries of love, like the furthest reaches of the Universe, eluded him. 

 

Eily Nash ~2018

Categories
Uncategorized WRITING & BLOGGING

Lonely Heart

 

 

composing-2391033_1920.jpg

She was a dangerous secret, kept hidden from the world.

How could he explain that when he looked into her Obsidian eyes he was afraid of what he saw looking back,  reflections of the darkness in his own soul.

Who could understand, when he could not make sense of it himself, the deep feeling of love he had for the Nightwalker dwelling in the tangled forest of his mind?

Many women came and many women went, as he tried to forget her. But he knew she was just a whisper away and if he were to say her name, she come. Yet fear kept him silent for he knew only she could assuage the longing in the dark recesses of his lonely heart … 

 

Eily Nash ~2018

Categories
SHORT STORY TREES Uncategorized WRITING & BLOGGING

Benediction of the Trees

branches clouds colors countryside
Photo by icon0.com on Pexels.com

Phaedra was aware the sun was hanging low in the sky and would be setting shortly. She would need to make haste if she were to avoid the impending gloom once it disappeared into the horizon. Her mind had been full of thoughts of the talking Owl she had met in the Night Garden at dusk yesterday. She had been eager to share with Hepzibah, who smiling, had observed, ‘That garden is full of witch’s weeds, you need to realise that some of those herbs can be hallucinogenic, My Lovely.’

Once again, Phaedra was left confused by the paradoxes she was encountering in Wychwood. Either the veil between worlds really was very thin or else she was suffering serious delusions. As the overgrown dirt track meandered downhill, her eyes were firmly fixed upon her next step in an attempt to avoid stumbling on the loose pebbles. Nimbly side stepping one of the many offerings left by an equine traveller who had preceded her on the ramble, Phaedra looked up as a glint of light caught the corner of her eye. Stopping in her tracks, she became aware of a perfect circle of chestnut trees as she watched the sunlight dappling golden light on the rich green leaves. The branches slowly swayed to the music of a gentle breeze, leaves quivering and dancing to the soft low hum of the wind. Golden light twinkling and sparkling on the rich verdant leaves and the deep brown nuts that littered the floor, cracked open from their protective spiky casings.

Gently stepping over the fallen harvest, Phaedra answered their invitation and stepped within the circle of trees, noting by the girth of their trunks and the strength of the long outstretched branches, that these were indeed Grande Dames of the woodland. Their age and wisdom were apparent from their gnarled and knotted yet strong proud and beautiful trunks. Their outstretched limbs intertwining and interconnecting with each other, embracing each other in an intricate lattice work of wood which seemed to grow tighter and more close knit as Phaedra moved to the centre,
‘Ah, the circle is cast!’ she thought.

Die_Nornen_Urd,_Werdanda,_Skuld,_unter_der_Welteiche_Yggdrasil_by_Ludwig_Burger.jpg
The norns Urðr, Verðandi, and Skuld beneath the world tree Yggdrasil (1882) by Ludwig Burger.

Within their protective conclave she became aware of a quiet communication, first between the whispers of the wind, and then between each sister tree. With a jolt, she realised that the trees were speaking not only to each other, but also to her, to Phaedra! They were imbuing her with a sense of themselves, of what it felt like to have roots that sank deep down into the verdant rich dark soil, their root systems mirroring the branches above, all interconnected and intertwined. Phaedra felt tingles in the soles of her feet and with a start realised that she had sunk ankle deep into the earth, but she did not feel any fear, just an awareness that her toes; the bones and nervous system and veins seemed to be growing and extending beyond the confines of her flesh.
She was growing roots!

Roots that meandered through the earth, touching, connecting, wrapping around those of the trees that surrounded her, and it felt good. Phaedra raised her arms up high in sheer joy, and once again the tingle, and her fingers seemed to elongate, the flesh, veins, bones, nervous systems stretching, stretching up to the tall branches, connecting, weaving, latticing into those of her sisters around her, for now Phaedra felt at one in the circle of the Horse Chestnut sisters.

Above her upturned face, the sun in a final swan song, burst through the density of the leaves, bathing Phaedra in a golden light. It felt so good to pull the light of the sun into her body. She felt it travel through her limbs and trunk, and then as the sun sank on the horizon she became aware that all was suddenly dark. From the blackness of this void a light appeared, whirling before her eyes, as its motion slowed to a standstill, there hanging in the nothingness was a perfect golden hexagon. And within the six points of the star, a silver tree was transposed, its branches perfectly fitting the three upper points of the star, and its root system stretched out in symmetry over the lower three points of the star. Then a blinding flash of light in the centre of her brain and the symbol seemed to be absorbed through her crown chakra with the words,
As Above, So Below.’
In that moment in time, Phaedra knew the cosmic synergy of heaven and Earth and the importance of the trees as fully sentient beings upon the Earth, working in Divine Service of Source.

Then nothingness, the void.

The loud chattering of the birds stirred her to her senses. Phaedra was surprised to see the Sun was rising, no doubt awoken from her slumber by the sweet call of the birdsong.
She was lying curled up on a carpet of springy moss and sweet smelling chamomile, under the protection of one of the huge Chestnut trees. Stirring to remember how she had come to be here, a whirl of thoughts flooded her mind and senses…feelings of being one with the trees, of having roots that stretched deep down into Gaia’s warmth and received sustenance and grounding; of having strong branches that stretched heavenwards. She felt the warmth of the sun bringing life giving energy down through her body, she recalled the feelings of pleasure of having beautiful leaves, and bearing flowers and fruit that in turn delighted and nourished. She was pleased by the shelter she gave to the birds of the air, the insects, and creatures of the forest. Of the pleasure of the wood nymphs coming to dance and play, and the heavenly delight of being of service to the Light of Source and beloved Mother Gaia by providing oxygen on the Planet.

As Phaedra stood and stretched, she noticed a young sapling delicately rising from the rich earth just by the strongest and oldest tree. From one of its tender young branches a glint caught Phaedra’s eye. Stretching out her hand, she felt a familiar tingle, and there in her palm was a perfect silver six-pointed star pendant, on which a tree was wrought in gold.

The young tree seemed to whisper on the wind…

‘My gift to you, Mother…’

Phaedra knew her child, laying still within her womb, would be born with the wisdom and strength of the trees.

As above, so below.

© Eily Nash ~ 2012

Extract from my book “Wychwood” available on Amazon.

Categories
Uncategorized WRITING & BLOGGING

The Games People Play

Image from http://www.pixabay.com

Kyle was a star Poker player He kept his cards close to his chest, never showing his hand, confident his next move would be undetected until he made it.

That was until he met Nell.

It wasn’t until the last hand, he realised that all along Nell held all the aces even though Poker was not her game.

Chess was.

Nell was used to taking King’s down, planning her moves many steps ahead.Too late, Kyle realised he needed to change his game.

Checkmate…Game Over…

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Eily Nash ~ 2018

#flashfiction #microfiction

Categories
FICTION & POETRY MAGICK PARANORMAL FICTION SPELLCRAFT Uncategorized WRITING & BLOGGING

Shadow Dancer

 

Is waking reality all it seems

Does Truth lie within your dreams?

 In your thoughts and in your head

The Shadow Dancer in your bed

She is the ice, she is the fire 

She is the flames of your desire  

Through the ethers Magic flew  

Did her witchcraft enchant you?

 

angel-1284369_1920
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

 

 

 

 

Eily Nash (2018)