The notebook of a heart-led writer. Poetry, deep reflections, and the space between the lines.

Welcome. If you have found your way here from my books at Starflower Press, or celebrant training at Heart-led Celebrants, I am so glad you have stepped into this new space with me.

Here I will share the raw pieces of my writing life: the poems that arrive in the middle of the night, the quiet reflections on the creative process, and the gentle (or not!) behind-the-scenes moments of the books I am currently writing. This space is a digital journal where I share writing directly from my desk to your screen, outside the noise of the usual social media.

In this dedicated space of Ink and Starflower, I will be posting my verses, book updates, and creative thoughts. You do not need to sign up for anything to read them. You can always just bookmark this page and visit whenever you need a quiet moment of reflection. Expect cats, a cosy cuppa, wildflowers and wonderings.

Thank you for reading, and for walking this creative path with me.

Gardening In The Rain

This piece is called Gardening in the Rain, and it explores the strange, beautiful balm of nurturing new life during a Cumbrian downpour.



Gardening In The Rain

© Veronika Sophia Robinson

The heavy Cumbrian sky breaks wide,
drenching the ancient wall.
Beyond, the meadow blurs,
where wild fells watch and secrets wait.

Yet here I stand, deep in the pour,
aiming the garden hose,
showering the expectant earth,
pulsing water over this newly turned vegetable bed.

To spray the soil while heavens weep
unfolds a paradox, a deliberate art.
The wild rain drums and beats,
while my hand directs a gentler stream,
packing the dark earth snug,
sheltering the fragile, dreaming root,
a double baptism of grace
to anchor every tender shoot.

Rich petrichor rises,
awakening the soil from its patient sleep,
perfuming the heavy, damp air.
It floods my lungs, clearing my mind,
sparking a wild, fierce joy within the chill,
as vital life stirs in the mud
and green leaves quicken.

Drinking, drinking are the tiny, ruffled lettuces,
and fragile, thread-like leeks,
the infant broad beans pushing through the dark,
and pale, hopeful tomato seedlings.
The young sweet corn trembles in quiet faith,
the pumpkin sprouts unfold a sheltered palm,
all small, all reaching,
while the heavy downpour tempers overhead.

So let it rain, and let me stand,
soaked to the skin, completely free,
weaving my intentions into this garden plot,
belonging to the meadow, fells, and tree.

For in this wet, mud-flecked rite,
where sky and water blend,
I tend the threshold of the seed,
and watch the magic break the ground.

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Child of the Sun

 

This piece of writing was from a prompt on ‘weather’ by Penrith Writers’ Group.

Child of the Sun

©Veronika Sophia Robinson

25th July 2026

 

I was born for this weather,
my soul cast in the sultry, slow heat.

Long before I ever knew the shades and shadows of Winter,
my story began in the Sun-baked, blistering, burning heat.
The day I took my first breath,
the thermometre climbed and climbed and climbed
to peak at thirty-one degrees,
while the Earth hummed a golden, mid-Summer tune.

Sunshine is my cosmic touchstone,
a sacred medicine and mystery sinking deep into my skin,
warming my Winter-weary bones from the outside in.

To feel the afternoon glare is to touch my own beginning;
the sharp, clean scent of eucalyptus leaves basking in the light,
the breath of the dry earth resting under the baking sky.

I remember wandering barefoot,
where the dust was a rich, red powder,
and the still stones held the fire of the sky.

My feet knew the rhythm of the parched land,
and my skin drank the golden dawn.

Though the skies may turn and the days grow pale,
my being longs for that searing, Summer Sun.

I lift my face to the sky to claim my birthright,
letting the comforting radiance settle over me.

The scent of dried grass rises, the distance melts away,
and I am once again a child of the Sun.

My soul stretches out to the burning sky,
as the mid-Summer heat climbs high,
the only perfect comfort that I know.

 

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