Here on the Clay Road you will find the musings of a poet,
her tapestry of multimedia art,
her books, poetry, art and the ramblings of eventide.
Follow the Clay Road into the distance to discover something
about life from your inner poet.
This is the time to create, to travel, to read, to write.
The poetry is here, like the fields of lavender.
The valley that produces the scented oil rolls off into the mountains.
Victoriana Video by Emily Isaacson
At times we hold a paint brush for a self-portrait,
then are captured by another’s face.
The vanity mirror over the bonnet chest
hunted my image, creating a self-portrait,
and choraled my maze of human emotion
into the glassy eyes with fringed lids,
bossy curls, nomadic hairline,
purling mouth, with teeth like
clickety-clack, purl, purl.
My scarf of faith had the same quality
of seven church services, only more colourful,
with wool singing an hymn
of having once been carded, spun,
and dyed. Now the lamb saw
her practical purpose, in giving
of the fleece that would start white as snow,
then drift into other bright-hued shades.