Karen Eastland
Bio
In addition to my creative pursuits, I'm also a dedicated advocate for education and literacy. Through my writing, I seek to inspire others to follow their passions, to make a positive impact on their world.
The #AdventuresofMillieandSandra
Stories (67/0)
Shifting Tides of Long Ago
The laughing pine, a constant friend, shelters an ageing call whilst the tightening bounds of a yesteryear catches me in its thrall. A rising sun of always the same casts my shadow into the day, but the shading ripples of the pines embrace casts its echo far away, from me.
By Karen Eastland 3 years ago in Poets
Cloud Walker
Soft white steam exhales into the morning mist as cloud and drizzle fall about her feet. She, who walks a top cloud and dances upon the ridge of mountainous alpined moss, sees all the way along the great valleys that edge the Tasman Isles flowered beauties. All paths intersect and celebrate at her feet, with the Green-mans leafy trail laid before each step she takes. Cool and chilled she whispers to the shifting winds, all the secrets and hidden mysteries that shower their bounties upon an unknowing world.
By Karen Eastland 3 years ago in Wander
The Sly of Night
His black eyes haunt me. The texture and form of his white body fits with my own and yet we are breeds apart. I hear his call each day amongst a growing throng, attempting to lure me into his arms, but I resist. He urgently pulls at the soft white pillows and burgundy summer blanket temptingly from the darkness I can always feel his eyes watching my every step, the rise and fall of my every breath. I make a wide birth each time I pass his abode, knowing I’m helpless to his charms.
By Karen Eastland 3 years ago in Confessions
Faces in the Green Mans Veil
The shadowed faces peer through the soft foliage of new growth, no distinction as to gender perceived by those of a mortal realm, as androgynous forms shape through dark course barks and silvered boughs, all watching from lofty branch and twig.
By Karen Eastland 3 years ago in Poets
Questions on Life and Death
‘…Suicide’ I ask myself, ‘how can there be suicide if Saint Peter himself has granted me entry?’ It’s a brain twister I’ll grant you that, but in having willingly undertaken a trip to see old Saint Pete, infers that I have harmed myself in an effort to cause death. If Saint Peter lets me through those pearly gates, is it suicide, or is it my time? Was I predestined to die at this time, in this particular way and if so, did the plan for my life and ultimate death, always lead to the pearly gates? If I am granted entry, and refused exit, does that make that which hides beyond those pearly gates heaven or hell?
By Karen Eastland 3 years ago in Poets