On the old apple blossom, crispy petals bloom into white butterflies. Amanda~Louise Gilmour © 2020
Dawn's ghostly whisper, dappled with rose-gold hues, seeps into inky skies. by Amanda Gilmour
Atlantic waves slice the sun in half, a semi- circle melting. by Amanda Gilmour
Oriental lily stains the wings of a white butterfly, amber.
Stars fall over the pass of Drumochter, smudged grey as always, barren, desolate ‒ a world dropped dead into Dante’s Ninth. By the old railway, I cradle your urn, twisting the lid, scattering ashes that return on a wet wind wave, blinding me. As your particles speckle the yawning hills, my soul blinks behind gritted lids. Amanda-Louise Gilmour
Beneath susurrus snowflakes by lilting Mill burn, his going spawned silk rivulets glissading over wrist bone; echoing in pearly scars over crimson flowing vein, a gossamer reminder of his whispered nasal hymn. Narnia embellished summer dresses hidden silvered skin, beneath susurrus snowflakes by lilting Mill burn. Amanda-Louise Gilmour