Counting Magpies


, , , , , , , , , , , ,

I am delighted to announce that my second anthology, ‘Counting Magpies’, is now out on Kindle! At a very reasonable price of £1.99, you can treat yourself to a copy :)




amazon US


Sugar Rush, poem by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm (MY SWEET WORD Series)

Worldly Winds:

Thank you Silver Birch Press :)

Originally posted on Silver Birch Press:

Sugar Rush
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm

I’m whacked out on sugar,
my mood it is high,
I’m giddy and playful,
just look at me fly!

No need to worry,
I’m prepared for the crash,
I have foamy bananas,
in my secret stash!

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: This is a whimsical poem written about my favourite sweets – foamy bananas. I find them irresistible and sometimes have a secret hoard of them in my writing desk. They are an essential must for writing and editing.


Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
was born and raised in Chesterfield, Derbyshire (United Kingdom). She now lives in Yorkshire and works as a freelance British Sign Language Interpreter within the Yorkshire region. Alex started keeping journals and writing poetry as a young girl. Only two years ago, encouraged by friends, she set up a poetry blog — — and was astonished by the positive response to…

View original 45 more words

****** Stars ******


, , , ,



I reach up

Pluck the stars from the sky

Put them in my pocket

To keep them safe

Once I have climbed

The lofty mountain

And reached the highest peak

I set them free

To twinkle

And make

The night


© Stars 09.09.2015

By Alexandra Carr-Malcolm

Picture credit:

Found on

The Steel Snowdrop

Originally posted on Worldly Winds:

This image was selected as a picture of the we... This image was selected as a picture of the week on the Czech Wikipedia for th week, 2007. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I am a contradiction!

Damaged and fragile,

a smashed up china doll.

Introvert and quiet,

a lone snowdrop,

passed unnoticed –

unwatched and unobserved.

Inside –

a cavern.

Older than time itself.

Deep and hidden,


like a foundation.

Ever there, ever present,

with a core of steel.



A stormy winters night,

brooding and moody,

ethereal, transcendent,

not belonging.

Like a storm cloud passing through.

I am a contradiction,

with a beating


© Steel Snowdrop 2012

By Alexandra Carr-Malcolm

View original


Originally posted on Worldly Winds:










With tick after tock

as life leaves the clock,

time is ebbing away,

and tock before tick,

where time starts to slip,

reality shrouded in grey.

The pendulum swings

as the death knell rings

night bleeds into day,

as midnight chimes,

love’s sleep is sublime,

youth has out welcomed its stay.


© Thirteen 13.08.2014

By Alexandra Carr-Malcolm


Picture credit: Picture courtesy of


View original

Tipping Sheep (the right way)


, , , , , , , ,

Tipping Sheep (the right way) was inspired by my son – in celebration of his 18th birthday today, here it is again! If you would like to purchase a paperback copy of my first anthology by the same name, please contact me on










With face of delight,

my son runs to me –

I’ve tipped up a sheep,

he shouted with glee.


My face drops with horror.

Well how could this be?

Am I the worst mother,

has he learned nothing from me?


“Calm down Mother!”

my son reassures.

“It’s not as you think,”

with derision he snorts.


“We walked in a field,

(in the group we were five,)

saw a sheep on its back,

with legs waving at sky.


It soon came apparent,

from what we could see,

that the sheep was so stuck,

‘twas a strange sight to see.


We tried hard to lift her,

but to no avail,

she was fat, wet, and smelly,

the weight of a whale.


Then out of the blue,

an idea did occur,

we spread out our groundsheet,

to roll her on there.


With one mighty tug,

we pulled the sheet up,

and the sheep it did tip,

(the right way up!)


So, off with a wobble,

and a, ‘baa,’ of delight,

the sheep she then trotted –

it was quite a sight!


So you see Mum, it’s true,

the things I did say,

we tipped up a sheep.”

(Thankfully – the right way!)



©Tipping Sheep (the right way) 2012

By Alexandra Carr-Malcolm





, , , ,


I said what about my eyes?

“Keep them on the road”

I said what about my passion?

“Keep it burning”

I said what about my heart?

“Tell me what you hold inside it?”

I said pain and sorrow

He said:

“Stay with it”


by Rumi

Picture Credit

Green Tara – Painting by Devendra Man Sinkhwal, Nepal

Call for Submissions: My Perfect Vacation Poetry/Flash Fiction Series

Originally posted on Silver Birch Press:

journey Summer is here and people are hitting the road to enjoy some rest and relaxation — and maybe even some cultural enrichment. What’s your idea of a perfect vacation? If you’ve experienced one — tell us about it in a poem or flash fiction (100 words or fewer). Or if you’re still waiting for your dream sojourn, let us know what you envision — in a poem or flash fiction.

PROMPT: In a poem or flash fiction (100 words or fewer), tell us about your perfect vacation — real or imagined.  Please send a photo of yourself — at any age — to accompany the poem, and provide a caption for the photo (when, where). (If possible, send a vacation photo.)

WHAT: Submissions can be original or previously published poems or flash fiction. You retain all rights to your work and give Silver Birch Press permission to publish on social…

View original 332 more words


Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 3,632 other followers