Articles by Lynn White

Poem

"...A shimmering seed held like a star in a wiry halo..."

"...No garden of Eden here. No gateway to paradise..."

"...flakes of skin and bone wrapped in long hair..."

"...And all because of Miss Pass..."

"...pleading to be let in anywhere..."

Lynn White lives in north Wales. Her work is influenced by issues of social justice and events, places and people she has known or imagined.

"...Our father made us three, blue, green and purple..."

"I saw him flapping around in the grass..."

"...to bear witness, if any one is listening..."

"...I did, I did as just I'd promised..."

"...I thought that it was a picture he would like to have..."

"...A kind man, a nice man..."

"...everyone is facing both ways..."

"...My mother liked things to be right..."

"...You can wind up the anti, add hate to the hate..."

"...Making notes of my life, telling my story..."

"...The light is a different matter..."

"...waiting for more cold days to come..."

"...the unicorns are are prancing, rearing up..."

"...Maybe they'll tell me enough..."

"...Imaginary events are more controllable...."

"Traveling through northern France..."

"...I stepped on a caterpillar accidentally..."

"...this rabbit hole world..."

"...the effigy is broken, the marble decaying...

"...How far did they fall..."

"...he took off his shoe and banged it on the table..."

"...the ones behind the masks..."

"...sleepwalking into my to be lived future..."

"...the sad man of the leafy suburbs..."

"...But they did ask her..."

"...Which mirror will show me..."

"...They will be taken away in time..."

"...I wanted plaits..."

"...the font of translucent light..."

"...a morsel of paradise captured ..."

"...searched my memory and my imagination..."

"...hiding what lay beneath..."

"...the colour yellow doesn’t suit me..."

"...even so, they were better than nothing..."

"...a mind that’s taken leave of its senses..."

"...it was the brightness of the red that won me over..."

"Gather round the camp fire..."

"...when power meant steam and strawberries were seasonal..."

"...humour and pathos combined incongruously..."

"...She emerged the same each time..."

"She was all gold..."

"...even though it doesn’t feel that way..."

"...transform the heavy leaden flesh of age back to the bloom ..."

"...all the pages all the words he had written..."

"...she was a child of life..."

"...she was not allowed to touch..."

"...the witching hour has arrived at last..."

"...perhaps they still live in hope like us..."