Tag Archives: snow

Third Novel ‘Update’ + Seasonal Micro-Fiction! :-)

Can you believe it’s already December?! Where has the time gone? Well, a good deal of that time (along with lovelight!) has found its way into the final novel of our Lazuli Portals Trilogy … the book currently known (to you, at least!) as LP3.

We do have a title for the book … and, for the first time, for each of its chapters, too! For now (when Jo’s health and Ron’s ‘free time’ permit) we are still working with our beta readers, and on editing and polishing. Then will come formatting, proofreading, and preparing the book for its Kindle and paperback homes.

The artist who designed the beautiful covers for The Cordello Quest and Mosaic of Light (the fabulous Stuart Cooper) is keen to work with us again, but is not available until after the New Year. Designing and creating a cover from scratch – one which clearly represents the essence of the story – takes a lot of time and dedication! So please, stay hopeful that he will be able to create another fabulous cover for us!

What we can tell you now is that the book’s title is three words long. Just like The Cordello Quest and Mosaic of Light. Three books, each with a three-word title. 3 3 3. Hmm, strange coincidence … or is it synchronicity?! Those repetitive triple numbers rear their head again, something Keira finally learns more about in LP3!




So with the newsy bit out of the way, we have some micro fiction to offer you, little stories of fewer than 250 words each which we’ve crafted in response to the snowy image below. (Believe it or not, despite their similarities, Ron and I wrote these stories independently of one another!) We hope you enjoy them!

Winter Theme photo for Xmas News and Blog 2017.jpg

[Image © www.Copyright-free-photos.org.uk]

The Evening Before
As the last of the sun’s offerings tinkle the settled snowy branches, the air stills and silence falls over the ancient walkway. Looking up, the new moon sits there trying to make its own mark on a perfect winter’s scene created by the earlier snowfall. The wonder of this quiet solo walk is lifting the dread of tomorrow, which had pervaded my mind all day.

A wave of extreme cold suddenly shoots through me, hitting my back and exiting my chest, prickling the hairs. Wide-eyed I look around. Nothing has moved. Snow sits securely on the firs around me.
Along the pristine snow path in front of me a series of footprints rapidly appear. Nothing visible to make them. They shoot on around the bend.
I stand in shock. No movement.  No sound.
The light is fading. Nervously I look over my shoulder from the direction I had walked. Nothing.
Wait… Where are my footprints? The path is covered with unmarked snow.

My shoes hold traces of the snow kicked up by my steps and are sitting with snow all around them. As I look down, snow replaces my feet and a warmth spreads up my legs as they disappear. I can not move but do not feel ill at ease as my lower body is lost from view.
The footprints in front of me are disappearing as they retrace themselves.

Tomorrow has come early. I am off to my past again.

[242 words © Ron C. Dickerson]

Cold and Crystalline
The only sound is that of my boots squeaking along the snow-covered forest path, and the soft whoosh of my breath where it puffs into a cloud just in front of me. The freezing air is ice on my tongue, tasting of purity and newness.

I stop walking and hold my breath, listening to the cold, crystalline silence. Right here, right now, it’s just me and this white world.

Behind me, my footprints track my past. Ahead lies a path of unbroken snow: pure possibility. I wait, poised, at the fulcrum of time, glad of this stillness, this pause. I gather it in with all my senses, exploring the shape and texture of it, wishing I could commit it to memory.

But memory is the past, and this precise moment will not be experienced again, for even memory is not a perfect replication. In any case, if I spend time back there, then I miss what is happening now. And look, the moment is already changing, a twig cracking somewhere ahead, followed by a russet blur scampering up the shadowed spine of a tree.

Even here, nothing remains the same. Even here, each moment is impermanent.

Releasing my breath, I resume my walk. My Boxing Day afternoon awaits: young nieces and nephews will arrive soon, faces flushed and eyes bright with excitement, their high voices a tumult. Now, my spirit rested and serene, I am ready to return home and immerse myself in the happy hubbub.

[246 words © Joanna Gawn]


If you would like to share this blog post, then you are very welcome to do so! The words on this page have been infused with lovelight. Any action you take to share The Lazuli Portals with the wider world is helpful, and a way to offer more love and light!

Also, please feel free to comment below! We love to hear from people who’ve enjoyed what we write. 🙂

With lovelight blessings for a beautiful December, and a New Year full of hope, possibility, and love,

Joanna and Ron | The Lazuli Portals

~ fiction for the awakening ~



The Rudolph Promise + Festive Fun Frolics: Two poems for December!

As is traditional for us at this time of year, we are sharing with you a couple of short pieces – both poems, this time – of a ‘seasonal nature’. We hope you like them! They’re just a bit of fun, not meant to be taken too seriously!













My Rudolph jumper (made by Mum) is splitting at the seams!

I’ve been trying to ignore it – but I do know what this means:

Too many mince pies eaten (and some custard creams)

I’m even seeing Christmas cake dancing in my dreams!


So once this week is over, I shall have to make amends.

A diet will be needed, or this gift from Mum will rend!

It’s just so very difficult when all my lovely friends

agree that on those sweeter foods our happiness depends!


But this cannot go on – there’s no way I can deny

that my clothes are getting tighter, and more I’ll need to buy.

So to save my pennies and my health, I will resist that pie,

even though I’m leaving now to have a little cry…










Festive fun frequents

Frightfully funny fellows.

Faces fixed focus

Fone fingers flicking.

Fretting following failure

Form further features.

Formulating future facts,

Forever feeling fortunate.

Fabulous famous followers,

Feathers fluttering frantically,

Frolic furtively forlorn.

Falsely farming favour.

Fostering frugal fondles.

Fruitful foreplay fragments,

Flounders foundation fidgets,

Fighting fiddly fidelity.

Flags flakey fingers,

Freezing Friday fortunes.

Fateful fake familiarity

Finally feelings freefall.

We both very much hope that you have a wonderful Yuletide and hugely enjoy any celebrations you are part of. We both celebrate Christmas so will be taking some time off with our families – and to recharge our creative batteries. But we’ll be back in early January. Have a magical New Year!

With lovelight blessings,
Joanna and Ron | The Lazuli Portals


Summit: Prose-poetry – and beautiful photography

Mountain panorama by Jono

Ron and I have been experimenting with writing prose-poetry, having learned a little about it at a workshop we attended with our local Writers’ Circle. While what we’ve written may not meet the stringent requirements of the form, we had fun crafting each piece, and hope you enjoy them.

I must point out that neither of us has ever climbed a mountain, so our writing is based purely on what was evoked by our imaginations when we saw a photograph of a mountain-top at the workshop.

The beautiful photographs included here are with the generous consent of my mountaineering brother-in-law (of whom I’m extremely proud!)

Jono near summit

Summit by Joanna

Seek the air, suck in a breath, feel its fragility.
Cry out, hear the echo of it rebound, stretch, on and on.
Touch the crackling crystals, taste the iced isolation.
Sense the stillness, the pressing presence of the end of the earth.
Listen, listen, to the vast voice of the land of snow and silence.
From ascension comes awe, as though we meet the heavens here, and render them real.

Jono on summit

 Summit by Ron

No time to enjoy the view then; on, driven to the next climb.
A sunrise, a sunset, the walk to work or lie-in; the treadmill of life in non-decreasing form.
Three white lines on road’s black canvas touch far away; until you get there.
Round and round the ring he prances, weight moving on and off; still on and on he must go.
Falling, always falling; down, always down – and with nothing below.


Images © Jonathan Astin.
See more of his fabulous ‘ruahine-tramper’ photographic collection, which includes images of New Zealand, on Flickr.
A big thank you to Jono for permitting us to include these images here.

Dancing In The Snow: A Christmas Poem


Dancing In The Snow

Soft as breath, flakes drift and swirl
cold to touch but feather-light.
We dance and spin, eyes closed
our snow-kissed lashes white
cheeks flushed winter-bright.

Echoes trail, sweet harmony
voices raised in carols clear.
We dance and spin, eyes closed
their music all that we can hear
our private symphony, drawn near.

Chords fall quiet as twilight comes;
we hum last lingering refrain.
We dance and spin, eyes closed
while day gives way to night again
and darkness shrouds our sleepy lane.

Snow retreats, and stars reveal
their distant sparkle reaching deep.
We dance and spin, eyes round
as team pulls sleigh in sky-crossing leap.
Our magical secret: one to keep!


Poem © Joanna Gawn 2014 | Image © Stuart Miles

We’ll be sending a bonus short story ~ A Little Christmas Sparkle ~ to our Newsletter subscribers tomorrow.

Please sign up to our free Newsletter ~ Lazuli Portals News ~ if you’d like to receive it.

Whatever festival(s) you celebrate at this time of year, we wish you peace, happiness, joy, and wellbeing.

We’ll be back in the New Year! Have a good one!

Joanna & Ron | The Lazuli Portals