I Hold the Moon


Image credit: Anton27/Shutterstock.com

I hold the moon precious
In my trembling arms
So close her silvery glow
Lights up my face
The earth trembles
To be so close
To her ancient lover
And if I place her
Gentle on the sand
The world entire
Will understand

The tide creeps in
To touch her grace
Fallen from the sky
Nestled in this place
In a dream I wonder
Where she’ll come to land
It’s something I
Can’t understand

I hold the moon gentle
Not worthy I
Sit silent on the beach
And pray in time
The planets align
And as sentinels stand
To sing this song
We’ll all understand

(c) Helen Valentina 2019

Posted in Air, Poetry, Water | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Scavenging for Time


Image credit: Geraldus Galinaus Kas/Shutterstock.com

These days I find I’m scavenging for time lost, time gone
And all the children running by don’t realise how soon it passes
In such a rush I see them pace not even realising this time, this space
Is nothing more than shifting sand and when they finally come to land
On who they’ll be and who they won’t
It’s far too late to turn the tide
Make other choices, deep inside
They’ll feel the same as I do now
That time has yet escaped them too, how can anyone dig within the sand
And find one precious moment lost
It’s gone, gone, gone

Aging creeps up on you like a thief on a balmy summer’s night
Pretending just to pass you by but biting in your soul even so
A little bit as you come and go
Rushing to dreams that you’ll never know
And you have no practice at being old
You’re young so long and then its gone
The time has tricked us, every one
Till all the stars have fallen, died, there’s not even one
To wish upon
They’re gone, gone, gone.

(C ) Helen Valentina 2019

Posted in Air, Poetry | Tagged , , , , , | 2 Comments

The Night Sky


Image Credit: Triff/Shutterstock.com

He said there’s much more than meets the eye
In the folds and wonders of the cold night sky
And how the ancients looked above to wonder and scrye

The ancient texts clearly mapped the stars
And planets from Pluto, to Saturn, to Mars
And told of the fates that the gods yet debar

And in these conjunctions and clashes of squares
The strategist keeps all his foes unaware
Where fate says they fall he’ll be meeting them there

And yet all this knowledge could not soothe his soul
He vexed on his future like a magus of old
And left all his story essentially untold

Now at times I look up in the dead of the night
When dying stars fall to my sorrow and delight
And I wonder if there he is free in his flight
If at last he is free in his flight

Helen Valentina (c ) 2019

Posted in Air, Poetry | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

I Hear Your Voice


Image Credit: Fernando Cortes/ Shutterstock.com

I hear your voice
My special friend
From beyond the world of men
Your silky black wings
And piercing eyes
And how your soul sings
When together we fly
As we will do
By and by

I love your soul
The clarion call
That swoops and dives above us all
My spirit responds
My heart will soar
We’ll be together
The perfect moment
Not before

I saw you once
Dark across the sky
And not one moment wondered why
We see ourselves
Like mirrors do
A bit of me
A bit of you
And nothing else
Will do

Helen Valentina (c ) 2019

Posted in Air, Poetry | Tagged , , , , , | 2 Comments



Image Credit: Sa-nguansak Supong/Shutterstock.com

How can I pray in such grandeur?
I am but a fallen soul
A beggar on my knees
Upon such marble
I might freeze
And above the intricate canopy
Mocks and chides me
I do not belong

A simple chapel would suit me best
In some small town
Smaller than my soul
But here within
Such splendour
Can I hide the sin
That weighs me down
Or will I drown?

Parishioners frown
And turn their heads away
I hear the words unspoken
What their silences say
That I am trespassing now
Upon a world too rich for me
Till I am more a sinner
By degrees
I cannot please
A god who stands upon the throne
That this great vista owns
So let me fall
To broken knees
Till I’m drowning
By degrees

(c) Helen Valentina 2019

Posted in Air, Poetry | Tagged , , , , , , , | 4 Comments



Image Credit: Subbotina Anna/Shutterstock.com

Wearing the face you held
Before you were born
You come into this world
Fully formed
The woman in the child
Awaiting the time
To flower
Like a new star in the cosmos
Flaming bright

You are too precious to lose
Hiding in the womb
Praying for mercy
And that you may come
Safe into this world
The woman in the girl
Waiting your time
To flower
Our new star in the cosmos
Flaming bright

We will not fail you
This good night
And at the morn
The world will know the wonder
Of an angel freshly born
Flaming bright

(c) Helen Valentina 2019

Posted in Air, Fire, Poetry | Tagged , , , , | 4 Comments



Image Credit: Subbotina Anna/Shutterstock.com

How they glow
Secrets you may know
If you’re very quiet
If you take this slow
All these wonders
You too can know

How the fire
Warms their hearts
Somewhere you can wander
Somewhere you can start
Under the canopy
Of their glow
Secrets you may know
If you’re very quiet
If you take this slow

(c ) Helen Valentina 2019

Posted in Fire, Poetry | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment



Image Credit: fizzkes/Shutterstock.com

I’m waiting for you
Alone in this noisy room
My coffee growing cold
Numbering the lies you’ve told
To me and all the others
Such a faithless lover
Yet I’m still waiting
Waiting for you

What will you do?
If you find me here
Sitting all alone
Will you linger
Or turn and hurry home
Such a cruel beloved
Loving no-one but yourself
All your pretty girls now
Sitting on the shelf
Just waiting for you

One day I’ll be through
Waiting for you
But till that day I linger
Hoping you’ll be true
I know this is foolish
To you it’s just a game
But I’ll still be waiting
Each day all the same
Waiting for you

(c) Helen Valentina 2019

Posted in Poetry, Water | Tagged , , , , , , , | 5 Comments



Image credit: EerikSandstrom/Shutterstock.com

This fine year
See the harbour glow
Without fear

Ferry ride
Cross the water flow
Safe inside

Bridge above
Like an angel wing
Hand in glove

This fine year
See the ferryman
As he steers
Our way clear

(c) Helen Valentina 2019

Posted in Poetry, Water | Tagged , , , , , | 3 Comments

The Van Apfel Girls Are Gone – Review

Van Apfel 2


The Van Apfel Girls Are Gone‘ by Felicity McLean is comparable, as the book jacket says, to ‘Picnic at Hanging Rock‘ but also stands strong in its own right. A highly evocative and masterfully rendered work, it seems art to me just as much a story. And I will admit, at the very beginning I struggled with the novel – not because of any fault of the work but because the deeply immersive style of writing is very different from many books I read. ¬†While you experience the memories and the current world of the main character, Tikka, she does not ‘explain’ her thoughts, instead providing you with an array of details and vignettes that finally come together to give you the narrative’s form.

For some works I might find this style frustrating, but it’s perfect here. This is a dark dream of a book, an implied nightmare with razor sharp insights to the underneath of suburban life and timeless social issues. As an Australian myself who grew up in the country her depictions were on point, reviving memories of my own. Once I yielded to the beautiful prose it seduced me and I was sad when it ended. Sad that the mystery would remain unsolved – though in some ways it would have felt wrong and unsatisfying for any other outcome. For what Felicity McClean has done here so perfectly is to illustrate the corrosion of secrets kept and memories mis-understood over years. In her work, like life, there are no easy answers, no pat solutions to wrap up the story with a bow at the end.

I remember once reading a story about Michelangelo that when asked how he sculpted David he said something like “I took the stone and chipped away all that wasn’t David.” I don’t know if the story is true, but in some ways I felt like this novel was the literary equivalent of the point just before David emerges fully formed. Still indistinct, a living thing not yet defined, but able to be seen even so: you feel you see David, or in this book you feel you can see what happened to the girls, at least leading up to their disappearance, if not after. But you don’t have all the information, and as Tikka says, no-one ever really knows.

This is a hauntingly beautiful book and one I unreservedly recommend. I look forward to future works from this author. Her vision is something very special indeed.


Helen Valentina



Posted in Conversation, Earth | Tagged , , , , , | 5 Comments