January’s Small Stones #4

If you’re looking for my Grow Your Blog 2014 post, go here

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This is the final installment of January’s Small Stones, covering the last two weeks. I hope you’ve enjoyed reading them as much as I’ve enjoyed writing them πŸ™‚ Look out for more in 2014!


20th Jan
This smoke doesn’t hang in the air.
It is off the hook, out of the wardrobe and dressing the air around it,
In a white shift of sweet smelling scent;
The ghostly shadow of burnt incense.


21st Jan
Dead roots cast aside in a desiccated clump.
Clinging together in a final embrace.
Their passion so fierce and determined,
So strong it must be warm at their centre;
Where new lives can sleep and grow and fester.


22nd Jan
No small stone today.


23rd Jan
It is as if each pip of hail that lands, realises on impact that is has managed to miss the designated landing spot.
And so, before it melts into nothingness, it must make a mad dash – skitter, skatter – towards its intended resting place.


24th Jan
Black lacquered pavement glows in disco orange light,
Dance floor for the rain drops that bounce and bop and shine.


25th Jan
It is tired of hanging there, in defiance of the natural order,
Hiding the wounds and battle scars of a fight with apathy.
Perhaps because a net curtain belongs beside a window,
Maybe it misses the fresh air, the morning sunshine, the view?


26th Jan
Funny how the wind through bare trees seems to wave the branches in a form of greeting,
And how each tree’s wave is distinctive, as each person’s is also.
The delicate, regal birch,
The eager, energetic oak;
All stir from their Winter slumber to say ‘Hello’.


28th Jan
Inhale the scent of bark and crumbly soil,
The citrus rush of wind fallen fruits,
A comforting wreath of steam rises;
This cup of tea is just what I needed.


29th Jan
You flutter, air-full and fast-on that silent tree branch,
Embodying the energy of a forgotten empire.
Empty plastic bag;
Flag of the fallen,
and the wild, forgotten places.


30th Jan
Wood pigeon sits on bare branch,
Aged Councillor surveying his constituency,
Fluffed up fat in his Winter feathers while below him the world is still grey and cold.
But his breast tinged with the pink of approaching daylight – Hope.
Soft, silent, sentimental.


31st Jan

Snowdrops stand in a line
A choir of school children, hunched and weaving
Making their way through their new, spring song.


January’s Small Stones #3


13th Jan
This land rolls like the ocean
Tall Peaks rising to crash on the distant horizon
And though my feet stand on dry land
I am adrift.


14th Jan
Ripples dance in circles round rocks buried deep beneath the water’s surface;
In fairy rings.


15th Jan

The sky, burns.


16th Jan

Morning tea in a pretty china cup.
Warmth to soothe, colour of eggshell.
And the promise of a tickling buzz that will clear this sleep-full head.


17th Jan

No small stone today.


18th Jan

The moss has hairs, which stand as tall as trees on their own tiny mountainside.


19th Jan

Galloping over the horizon,
Fluffly white clouds hurry in to view, moving aside the great grey mass overhead,
Its edges gilded by the Sun;
A promise of brighter things to come.


More small stones can be found and enjoyed at Writing Our Way Home and over on my hubby’s blog Outside Life.

January’s Small Stones #2

6th Jan

Black blood bottled in a cheap plastic cocoon
Fed slowly to the page – course undetermined –
By this hand that is lost for words.


7th Jan

Pretty primroses scatter the border; they’ve sat all through the winter (so far).
Still stretching their bright button faces to the sky.
β€œWe’re here!” They cry in rainbow colour. β€œWe survived!”


8th Jan

The scent of rain fills me, soothes my soul with its cool acceptance.
Watching the drops bleed slowly down the bare winter trees I realise:
Pain is universal, we are not the only species to feel its touch.


9th Jan

No small stone today.

10th Jan

The pages are cool and smooth beneath my fingers,
Carrying the weight of a whole world,
Balanced perfectly on each.

The black marks of reality give way to the white space between,
Where I pause for breath and hear it echoed by those who live within.


11th Jan

Smoke caught in shadowed candlelight.
Flickers like fairy wings, dancing round the flame.
This is scent, seen;
A glimpse of elemental magic in action.


12th Jan

They could be tiny flames,
Frozen in a moment of curled, orange beauty.
Huddling together like bats on the branch,
Seeking the warmth that Winter has sucked out of them
(these brittle, beech leaves).


Plenty more small stone offerings can be found at the official blog for the January 2014 Mindful Writing Challenge here.

January’s Small Stones #1


As part of January’s 2014 Mindful Writing Challenge (organised by the lovely folk at Writing Our Way Home) I am aiming to write a small stone every day.

The rules are very simple:

“1. Notice something properly every day during January.
2. Write it down. It’s that simple!”

The resulting small stone does not have to have a set style/format or a certain number of words of syllables; but they do tend to be short and sweet.

I am sharing them here in the hope that they might inspire others to make some small stones of their own, and to give you a glimpse into the world as I see it each day.



Jan 1st and 2nd

I missed the start by a couple of days so no small stones I’m afraid!


Jan 3rd:

This woodland stands, roots deep in frigid leaf mulch,
Chilled, stilled and abandoned,
It echoes with birdsong.


Jan 4th:

New year’s New moon
Shines its silver, lopsided grin
Making promises for 2014.


Jan 5th:

Those clouds are gold, buttered gold
Spread thick and shimmying at speed across the sky.


I will share these snippets in ‘week long’ collections, so pop back next Sunday for the next installment. And please feel free to share your own in the comments.

Here’s to a bright and inspiring January for us all!




All written materials and images, unless otherwise stated, are property of Kelly Tomlin 2016.
We gather together to Walk the Wheel; to share with one another and be inspired.