Sarah O

Carl Moll’s landscapes during WW1 can be read as expressing a deep-rooted yearning for harmony and positivity at a time that was marked by political and social conflict and turmoil, an antidote to the violence that was sweeping Europe at the time.

Nice floorboards..

Fabulous storytelling.. I miss the TV fading out to a pinprick..

Black-and-white graphic of a vintage typewriter seen from above. Torn paper strips sit in the typewriter reading “£1200 RAISED” and “WIN CASH” in bold lettering. Below, the hashtags “#TheBrokenSpineAward” and “#ByPoetsForPoets” are printed. The overall style is gritty, high-contrast, and zine-like.

No glass ceilings will be shattered here.
No doors magically open.
One editor’s taste. A bit of money.
Built shoulder to shoulder with the community.
#TheBrokenSpineAward #ByPoetsForPoets #PoemsAbout #LiftToTheSky

'Interior, Mrs Mounter.' (1917) With its reflective mood, Harold Gilman’s painting suggests a comparison by Scandinavian artists of the time including Hammershøi; Gilman's influence came from visiting an exhibition of Danish painting at the Guildhall Art Gallery in early 1907.

Cliffords Tower in York, blue sky, a mound of daffodils surrounding it.

Off to the allotment on the back of this.. thank you.

Gwnewch y pethau bychain (Do the little things) The world presses in, too much, too fast, thoughts tangle like brambles, news scrolls on without end. Step outside. Feel the air shift against your skin, watch how the trees move, not in urgency, but in time. Breathe. A bird lifts, a river shapes the land without force, the sky does not ask to be noticed, yet it holds everything. Do the little things. Place your hands on the earth, drink slowly, let silence settle where it will. Not everything must be carried.

Happy St David’s Day

News-Award win for youth allotment scheme - Durham County Council A scheme that offers children and young people the chance to get hands-on at a local allotment has won an award.

Sacriston Youth Project Allotment Group is an inclusive, youth-led initiative teaching young people about growing fruit and vegetables, wildlife care and environmental stewardship.
www.durham.gov.uk/article/3492...

Starling perched on brick with foliage, tower ruin in background, illustration.

Morning.
Coloured starling wood engraving, J. W. Whimper, C19th, Wellcome Collection.

This today. In memory of a dear Jewish /Welsh friend whose birthday was today and who spent his life fighting poverty , war and writing poetry.

Hello #PoemsAbout friends. I caught the prompt too late this week to write something new, so I went back to the archives. This one is from 1994 for #Spent
@thebrokenspine.co.uk @alanparrywriter.co.uk

#poetrycommunity #poetry #poems #blueskypoets #blueskypoetry

Oh Dean. This is exquisite. 'Burn my sails before you go'.. aching my throat. 👌

Thanks for the repost Dean.

Thank you for reading it!

"He calls at the castle and, by pretending to doubt the ogre’s magic powers, he induces him to change himself first into a lion
and then into a mouse, whereupon he falls upon him and eats him up" (after Perrault)

🎨 Rackham (1913)

#bookwormsat #goldenageofillustration #booksky #bookillustration

Goodnight from Darren Winch, offering the jukebox coins in hope for musical time travel to days when he had a wife to dance to Jeepster with. Goodnight from Jordan Leigh, gleefully spraying DROWNED DEAD RISING on the back of the Sea Cadets’ hut at Whitpole. Goodnight from Hookland.

Girl snuggling up to a Robin on a branch under a night sky, full moon.

Goodnight.
🖼️ Laura Makabresku

Thanks Sue. If only I had the voice of @thepaulconnolly.bsky.social I'd give it an audio go☺️.

Thanks 50.

Longshore Drift Yawl creaks tonight, fret lifts but the tide is so low. Crew, cobled to shore, drink in the snug. Keel wedges on the kansh, rocks cargo in its salty hold. Scullers check creel beyond the skerry. I scrat wrack for lava-bread, shack dark. Driftwood lies spitful, unsparked. Crab skaned for bait, I watch crates idle in spume, sure the tide will turn in my direction soon. Sarah O’ Grady Published Butcher’s Dog

@thebrokenspine.co.uk #PoemsAbout #Spent

Thanks Alan. One published a while back in the wonderful Butcher's Dog.

Yes. Afraid you might. Weirdly having a new cat on the block this week has reminded us even more of our loss but it is at least bearable now. My experienced in loss friends tell me we shouldn't have waited so long but it was right for us. Take care.

Tabby cat on a knee. Day 0. So Mr Bond, you thought you were the boss eh?

New cat on the block. Thanks to #Yorkshire Cat Rescue for mending our hearts. In true T S Elliot form..Piper Minnaloushe (shhh nobody knows the third name).

Missing Sunning belly up stretching feline across her shadow, barley lies crushed where summer twitched on the laze. Taking the corner of our lane as if she were there pretending to be dog at my heels, I trip in all my limbs. Descending I slink, dodge her absent tail nudging one door shut before braving the next. I still never leave the butter out. Sarah O’ Grady

I give you this poem. It took us 18 mths to risk our hearts again, jumped this week. Published Rough Diamond The Cat Poetry Book 2026. The price of loving is indeed grief. So sorry you are missing Frodo.

Goodnight Hookland, I hope the Stannis runs clear by morning.

Goodnight from Ashcourt Borough Council, where tonight’s meeting has been disrupted by angry calls to tackle the worsening phantom tram problem. Goodnight from the River Stannis, swollen with rain and a desire to break its banks in revenge for pesticide pollution. Goodnight from Hookland.

Black and white print featuring a blackbird sitting in a next amongst branches of a tree in blossom

Printmaker Clare Leighton, 'Blackbird on Nest, Lithograph of Wood Engraving, 1935 #womensart

Curious.

Social media has a well-deserved, appalling reputation. But as long as I’m careful what I read, my little corner of it is almost entirely, a party of interesting strangers. Hi folks 👋🏻😊

In a field near Buckingham, an abandoned car is gone, a new one in its place, as though that part of the field must never be without one.

I'd let the barley sugar go, always reminds me of car sickness, travelling in the boot of a Renault 4L. Night night Hookland.