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Do we succumb
when the charmers and the tempters come to call?
Sniffing round our doors,
peddling their wares – fruits for restless hearts.
Promises of baubles
and bright lights,
impassioned days and torrid nights?

Do we resist?
Do we see them for what they really are?
Do we cast the devils behind us without a care?

Or do we succumb and
Seize the day?
Jump headlong in?
All our sins laid bare.



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My weakness is my greatest regret.
I tried to be strong.
Lord! I tried so hard!
Everyday I would tell myself that this would be the day.
This would be the day I would stay strong.
This would be the day I resisted temptation.
And everyday I believed I would succeed.
And everyday I failed. Every single day.
I was not strong. I did not resist.
I could not resist.
The temptation was just too strong.
Stronger than me. Stronger than my will.
You – you were too strong.
You drew me to you like a magnet.
Physics, then, was my downfall.
Or maybe biology.
I was a moth drawn to the flame that would be my destruction.
Or perhaps it was just the chemistry?
There was certainly chemistry between us.
Well, it was some kind of science for sure. Though at times it seemed more like witchcraft, a dark art, the work of the devil, this attraction to you.
But that’s the trouble with temptation.
It is attractive and sweet and addictive.
It pulls you in against your will, wrapping you up in its sweetness, melting away all resistance.
And who can fight against that?
Not me.
I was undone before I even began.

Last Line First


Posted on

The Temptress.
Like so many before, she knew he would not resist it. She teased him, drop by tantalising drop. With promises of heaven, she lured him in and he drank greedily, gulping down the sticky sweetness. She watched him, her eyes bright and knowing. Enthralled, he sank to his knees, eyes glazed. He was hers now to do with as she pleased. She smiled. The potion never failed her. It was ever their downfall.

Stock Checking

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In the stacks
I find hidden gems.
A Perthshire Notebook,
Letters to her Daughter from Calamity Jane,
Journeys off the Beaten Track,
Their pages sing like a siren’s call
And lure me from the task at hand.


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