Natalie Wilkinson

Joined May 2021

0 stories

Bio

Writing. Woven and Printed Textile Design. Architectural Drafting. Learning Japanese. Gardening. Not necessarily in that order.

IG: @maisonette _textiles

Stories (64/0)

Rhymes With Money
There once was a bank with no money It collapsed on a day that was sunny. The bankers they ran To the beach for a tan While the government refinanced the funding.
By Natalie Wilkinson7 days ago in Poets
The Baker’s Cat
A black baker’s cat on the Bowery Whose back became white-striped and floury Frightened the cook When he took a quick look
By Natalie Wilkinson7 days ago in Poets
The Prize
Margery got a surprise When the clothing she won as a prize Turned out to be A child’s size three Which wasn’t her usual size.
By Natalie Wilkinson7 days ago in Poets
In Which a Young Woman of Dublin Meets Her Match
There was a young woman of Dublin, Whose Guinness was frothin’ and bubblin’, She fell out of her chair, But was caught in midair,
By Natalie Wilkinson11 days ago in Poets
Oops!
There once was a poet named Natalie, Who pounded out verses quite handily, When she slipped in a word That shouldn’t be heard
By Natalie Wilkinson15 days ago in Poets
Orion Lonely Hunter
Orion lonely hunter in the sky, I've seen you striding through the twinkling stars so high, When winter’s storms below have just begun,
By Natalie Wilkinson27 days ago in Poets
Buds on Bare Branches
buds on bare branches exercising caution, then, all at once, chartreuse
By Natalie Wilkinsonabout a month ago in Poets
Terese’s Sauce
Stovetop / 20-30 minutes to the table / Vegetarian (not Vegan)/ This is not a low-calorie recipe./ Fall and Winter flavors./ A wonderful beginner recipe.
By Natalie Wilkinson2 months ago in Feast
If We Stood on the Shore
If we stood together on the shore of the Great Salt Lake and cried our tears until none were left, would the brine shrimp return?
By Natalie Wilkinson2 months ago in Poets
What Can I Write About the Night
What can I write about the night that has not been written a million times? Its velvety blackness, the winking stars and planets, the moon in its phases, and the faint glow of kitchen lights at my back can all be taken for granted.
By Natalie Wilkinson2 months ago in Poets
Watersong Rises
Watersong rises Sliding from rocky harp strings Shimmering in air.
By Natalie Wilkinson2 months ago in Poets
Recurring
Every day/ a giant tall/ rumbles through the wood, with heavy feet/ he fells the trees/ crushing those below his knees. Every day/ my family flees/ like Dorothy’s kin outside,
By Natalie Wilkinson3 months ago in Poets

Natalie Wilkinson

Bio

Stories .css-19zxm0z-Text{display:inline-block;color:var(--text-default-mute);}(64/0)

Rhymes With Money

The Baker’s Cat

The Prize

In Which a Young Woman of Dublin Meets Her Match

Oops!

Orion Lonely Hunter

Buds on Bare Branches

Terese’s Sauce

If We Stood on the Shore

What Can I Write About the Night

Watersong Rises

Recurring

Stories (64/0)