Georg Cook

Georg Cook lives on the South Downs beside the sea and is inspired by the in-between worlds of woods and coast. Having rediscovered a forgotten love of words and writing, she walks this ancient land listening to its teachings seeking reconnection to the natural world and to self following the impact of Narcissistic abuse.

Tuning into the tides and the changing seasons of the wheel of the year, she writes, forms poetry and muses about emotions that when listened to fully without judgement allow a deeper connection to our soul through the healing power and inspiration of nature.

Instagram: @georgcook_writer

Calendar 2024

I am not quiet like my sister, Spring.

I do not creep up on you, there are no little pockets of colour.

Instead I shout, telling you of my arrival.

I invite the trees to take out their paint brushes, and the gentle, riot of colours explode into their leaves.

To spread these changing colours, my winds tease the leaves from their branches and invite them to dance.

"Let's colour the woods, fields and pavements with my seasonal exuberance," I shout. Let everyone notice and take note.

Autumn © Georg Cook

Contributors Showcase

I am not of this Earth,
I had somehow forgotten that.

I am birthed of Star Magic and Saltwater,
I had somehow forgotten that.

I am a traveler through time and Space,
I had somehow forgotten that.

I am here to hold space for others
I had somehow forgotten that.

I am here to speak my truth,
I had somehow forgotten that.

I am a soul with a purpose,
I had somehow forgotten that.

I am connected to all the universe,
I had somehow forgotten that.

I looked inside myself and saw,
And now I have remembered that.

The sun takes its time now
To rise above the horizon
It’s reach is not so far
It’s warmth it keeps for itself
Shadows are longer, more defined
In the shoreline the wind hurries
Seeking company amongst those drawn to the sea
Whipping hair across faces, biting at fingers
In come the big Atlantic Rollers
They too search for the calm
But the wind torments them
The winter companions ill at ease
Reconstruct the beach
There is beauty here
On the winter shore