Morrigan Harker
Writer, Musician, Everyday Magic Seeker
Tag: Writing
What have you been reading?
Well met, everyone, and welcome back to the blog! I’ve been getting things together offline, but I’d like to double back here for a question. What are y’all reading these days? One book I haven’t been able to stop thinking about is The Snow Collectors by… Continue Reading “What have you been reading?”
My 2021 Resolutions
Well met, everyone, and welcome back to the blog! To continue the pattern of talking about my New Year’s Resolutions, I want to talk about some of my resolutions for 2021. I’ve already addressed some of these on my Instagram, but I also want… Continue Reading “My 2021 Resolutions”
Things that I need on my writing desk
Welcome back, everyone! It has been far too long! If you follow me on Instagram, you may know that I was gifted a new writing desk a few months ago, and I wanted to write about what I need to be in creative flow.… Continue Reading “Things that I need on my writing desk”
A Maiden Fair (Poetry)
I linger at the hawthorn tree and beg you not to follow; I know who may be waiting under the enchanted canopy. I long for their rescue from this dark, wicked world and for the whispers in the earth to beckon me home, where… Continue Reading “A Maiden Fair (Poetry)”
The Entertainer (Poetry)
The numbers are cold, The musical notes still warm With the sensuous scarlet That also decorates the dotted line Of the contract I just signed In my own blood— I sold my soul So I could let others Commune with their own.
What Happened at the Antique Shop (Poetry)
The heaviness of the piece Is more than its weight, Memories in my hands Flashing in my mind In veiled shards of What history it had witnessed, The feelings welling up in my heart And taking form into pictures As familiar as words I… Continue Reading “What Happened at the Antique Shop (Poetry)”
Ice Cream (Poetry)
Sweet nostalgia Now forgotten, Melted with The burning suns Of time— What happened To those days Where the price for a wish Was a dandelion seed, And we were encouraged To believe In fairytales?
Firepower (Poetry)
Held in For so long A roiling spiral Until the emotions No longer have a name Nor have a fuse left Merely the tiniest spark And then—
