On Halloween the veil between the worlds of the dead and the living drops and we can reach out to those we loved and lost. Nerea is in charge of the family canteen for the night and she is bound by ancient duty to keep her post...

Dedicated to my father, the most gentle and loving man I know.

Words are cruel friends. They like to use you, (like here) to get out their own tongues, half-recognisable to the human ear. When I need them for anything of social consequence, they seem to evade me. Might as well give in to their scrapings on the back of my throat. I don't have much of a choice, really. They squeezed everything else out of my ears. But, alas, we are intertwined spirits of the same speck, so I do have a soft spot for them. Give em heaven or hell, I don't mind. They seem to like both.

There is a shadow lurking on the edge of our perception, in the worst of our nightmares. It is us. It has always been us. Welcome to my first collection of poetry. Here you will find a mangled mess of dark, eccentric and sometimes hopeful poems. They are suffocating, odd, haunting. Some works have been taken down and are now part of my published book. The first three poems which have been left up are included in Goblin Garden. Goblin Garden was published by the house O Kupos Me Tis Lexies (which is Greek for Garden of Words). The book is bilingual (the poems are printed in both English and Greek!). If you live in Greece you can purchase Goblin Garden from most bookshops, for those folks living abroad (and those who'd like a signed copy) just follow your nose to my WIX page---> https://ch0027.wixsite.com/christine-bottas Thank you to everyone who helped make this possible :)

Sometimes I stare at your grave from afar, and recall the beautiful pain that came with loving you.

Bits and bobs I may experiment with and post. I've been told they can be called oddities too! I think. I'll double check that one...

Each Day is a poem come to life. Good days, miracles. Bad days, termites.

This is a follow on collection from Windswept. In this collection I will examine the concept of love from a more ethereal perspective.

A poem every day for a year - the final days.

poems