June

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June swept in 

With it's golden rays

And promises of long, lazy summer days

I lie in it's splendour

Bathe in it's light

Living the promises

That will never take flight

By the dark, midnight moon

You float like a dream

Fluid and languid

How surreal you do seem

With a flick of my wrist

And a stretch of my hand

I reach out to grasp you

My June midnight dream

Dreams

I carry with me a dream

I think we all have dreams

That we pursue and hope

This is my dream

And it terrifies me

For every step taken

Brings me closer and closer

To where either

My dream lies or should lie

We dream our dreams

Painting them into our minds

In such detail that

They seem obtainable to us

We carry them with us

But how can it ever be what we imagine?

Our mind creates something

And our destiny is to

Fail to obtain it

So, with every step

I am torn between

Joy and fear

I am one step closer towards the dream

And one step closer towards the realisation that

The dream is nothing like what I imagined

A Beginning

I am the type of person who starts stories time and time again. I rarely know where they are heading and I don't think I have ever completed a story. Yet today I bring you the start of a new story which I hope you actually finish. Although I am not sure what will happen (oops).

The lights were slowly plucked, one by one, from the room and darkness drifted in, like a shroud buoyed up by the breeze as it sank to the ground. But one light remained and promised never to go out. Here I could be a thousand versions of me. If I could but reach through the screen and clasp in my hands this world I had made. Then I could be her; then I would be her.

Sometimes I sit back and wonder at what life has stored up for me. I seem to wonder a lot about everything and, perhaps, I am letting life slip past because I am too pre-occupied with observing it. But surely the man who sits beside the river sees more of it than the fish, which are dragged to and fro by its currents, ever see. Besides, life has a tendency to be overwhelming and maybe it is safest just to stand back and let it flow past.

That is what I tell myself, anyway. But if I really didn’t care, I am not sure I would dedicate so much time trying to pursue normality. It is difficult for the staunchly abnormal to try to pursue normality. Normality is inanimate and thus cannot fully be obtained. But then when it is so close and everyone around you seems to embody it, you just want to feel it.  

I hope you enjoyed it and I would love to hear any advice. 

Book Related Facebook Finds

Firstly, I am sorry I haven't posted in a long time; secondly, I think we can all agree that Facebook provides and inexhaustible wealth of literary related memes. One of my favourite pages are Literary Memes from where I have gathered most of these pictures.
I hope you enjoy and I would love to hear which picture is your favourite.

Introducing: Her Grace In Disgrace

Being the ultimate bad person, I am being totally honest here - please don't hate me (I was young and foolish), I have kept the lovely Claudia Harbaugh waiting some time for a review of her book 'Her Grace in Disgrace'. So, I have only just got round to starting this book as I have been crazily busy and have only been reading for college as it is my final year and I need to focus in order to get good grades.
Nonetheless, I have decided to introduce this book to you as I think it is worth a read and I will be doing a full on review later on once exams are over and I can focus, once again, on reading for fun.

So, this is the story of the widowed Duchess of Warwick who finds out her late husband had another family who inherited everything from him. She is now tainted by scandal and must start anew without any wealth or connections. The book follows her endeavours to integrate back into society and perhaps even learn to love again.

This is what Amazon introduces the book as...

Reginald Aiken, Duke of Warwick is dead and his young widow is not grieving…until the will is read. Isobel Kennilworth Aiken, Duchess of Warwick spent 6 years of her young life in a loveless marriage. Now, at the age of 24, Isobel is a widow. As Isobel awaits the reading of her late husband’s last will and testament, she feels no grief, but in fact is quite hopeful. She is eager to start her life anew. But, as the droning of the solicitor’s voice washes over her detailing the bequests to various servants and family members, a shock awaits her. The "other woman" was not his mistress, but his lawfully wedded wife and together they had a son. Six year old Reggie was now the Duke of Warwick, displacing Reginald’s brother Charles. There is a collective gasp as the revelation is made that instantly displaces Isobel and Charles and dashes their hopes for the future. Isobel must indeed start anew, but not as a titled, influential and wealthy widow, but as plain Miss Kennilworth, tainted by scandal. Can she get past the disgrace and humiliation she has endured and fight her way back into society? Will she find love again with her childhood sweetheart, Andrew Stafford, former vicar, now Lord Saybrooke? Or perhaps she will rekindle the flame with Jeremy Ingles, Lord Westcott, who had caught her fancy at her come out six years earlier, but had not been ready to be leg shackled. But before Isobel can find true love, she must come to grips with her past mistakes and the people she has hurt along the way. She must discover who she is without the title of duchess to her name.

This wonderful story is set in the Regency period and, from what I have read, it very nicely written and draws you in. More of this later in my full review.

I hope you will go and check out Claudia Harbaugh's Twitter page and blog and say a big hello to her and learn more about the book on Amazon.

The Grammar Of Us

When I receive a text,

From you,

Reading and rereading your pretty words.

Grinning at your spelling mistakes

And the random, irregular punctuation

You are irregular

And I hope our life will flow together

Without a misplaced comma

Or a premature full stop.

But I am not sure.

I do not have the same capacity

To throw in a shower of punctuation

And just go with what I feel to be

The right way to spell a word.

Maybe I am over thinking it all.

It is just that I have never met your likeness

And I worry that,

If I leave here a line without decisive punctuation,

Will it just trail on?

Or will it end,

By the hand of another,

Penciling in a few dashes and dots?

Dancing at Dusk

I just wrote this poem which I wanted to share with you all as I do enjoy sharing them with you. I hope you enjoy it and I would love to hear your opinions.

Stars skip and skim
Leaving trails of sparkling delight
Ingrained upon the night sky
Such is the thought of you
You flutter behind my eyes
And dance upon my lips

Like fairies seen at dusk
I close my eyes and there you are
Treading silently forward
And dancing in a spiral
Of our own making
I am your bride,
Wedded to an image of you