A Pair of Angel Hands

A Pair of Angel Hands As a child, hiding from suffocating strife She would imagine a pair of angel hands Cupped around her face Warm and gentle Like a summer breeze There, there, they would whisper Softly drying her tears. Ethereal, but tangible. She could feel arms cocooning her From the storm raging outside the … More A Pair of Angel Hands


Moonlight The moonlight flows over her skin like silver cream. Illuminating her long, undulating hair. Sliding across her breasts, arms and thighs Skin as white as alabaster, Yet warm to the touch Soft as down feathers. Your skin – slightly rough, Slightly tanned but with a flush of red As your eyes drink in her … More Moonlight

Hazel Brown

  Those eyes of Hazel-Brown With suggestions of Amber, And flecks of Gold, When lit up with the light Of warm recognition and love. Could melt the coldest heart And save the darkest soul.   © Kate McClelland 2015

Tar Bubbles

Tar Bubbles It was a very hot, dry day. It was so hot, that the road tar bubbled and hissed like a slimy black cauldron. You could smell the acrid odour like a strong ‘whiff’ from the cheap rubber-soles of the people walking along. The soles, gradually melting on the scorching pavement. You could have … More Tar Bubbles

A Bus Journey Home – Can you handle 3350 words? Willing to try? Get a cup of tea and snuggle down!

I’m trusting you guys with a story. I know people say ‘keep blog entries short’, ‘ keep it snappy’, ‘don’t wear out the reader’, ‘short, sharp & shocking’  is what you want to go for. But sometimes, don’t you want a little peek at something that’s not zingy and mind blowing? A gently rolling, monolog that may … More A Bus Journey Home – Can you handle 3350 words? Willing to try? Get a cup of tea and snuggle down!

The Butterfly

The Butterfly You are sitting in a big saggy armchair In a so-called ‘living’ room. With beige non-descript walls, Full of empty picture frames. Everything feels dull and grey and silent. It’s so quiet, you think you’ve gone deaf But then you hear your own blood Rushing through your veins. And hear the sound of … More The Butterfly