Francesca Bossert's Blog, page 5

THREE HUNDRED AND THIRTY-THREE BIRDS: Dusk’s Choreography

 

The breeze summons them at dusk.

“Fresh mosquitoes,” it whispers,

Blowing tiny frills over the lake’s surface.

“Get them while they’re juicy!”

 

And all at once, three hundred and thirty-three birds -

Finches and blackbirds, swallows and swifts -

Descend in graceful swoops

From the surrounding woodland.

Darting, delighted

Beaks primed, eyes beady,

Eager to feast on today’s bounty.

Intrepid trapezists now joined by bats,

Everyone dives and climbs,

Loops and spins,

Twirls and twists

In an elegant feeding frenzy.

 

Then, when the breeze bids them good night,

They coast back to green oaks, silver birches,

Willows and corks,

Where they fluff their feathers like tiny duvets

And perch like Buddhas in miniature shrines.

 

Sleepy dragonflies settle in the reeds,

A pair of Moorhens motorboat from shore to shore,

Frothing filigree behind them.

Fish leap and land in silver hoops

On the lake surface,

Gleaming in the fading light like a Persian carpet.

 

 

 

BECOMING BOUGAINVILLEA

I’d like to live there!

I shall become bougainvillea.

Wild and wickedly prickly,

Scrambling skywards,

A beautiful, hot pink muddle of wonder,

Giddy and desirable,

Selective on location,

With a strong preference for a seaview.

 

I shall thrive in sunshine,

Bloom for the breeze,

And wow in the golden hour.

 

Find my poetry book here

 

 

HOW TO PLANT EMPATHY IN OUR BACK GARDEN: A gentle guide to cultivating kindness, even when the world feels upside down

Photograph, Aaron Burden, Unsplash

 🌿 🌿 🌿 🌿 🌿

Shut off the news.

We have seen enough.The summer solstice has passed,And the slant of the earth tilts downward. Listen to the mournful, repetitive coo of a pigeonAnd let the tears flow,Cleansing, soothing. But take heart; we will not plant despair.We will raise the corners of our lips,Find our strengthIn the quiet power of our kindness,Because, We ARE the world. We will open our lungs to cool mornings,Bellow “hello”!We will smile and wave at our neighbours,Even if (as yet) they have never acknowledged us,Even if (as yet) they do not strike us as "our type". As tempting as it is,We will not mount our high horse.High horses always rid themselves of the smug and self-righteous. Instead, we will saddle our most honest horse,The one we have today,And ride gently forward. We’ll plod and plant.We’ll till and bakeWe’ll stitch and speak. We will help each other onwardAnd smother the flames of crueltyWith the slow steady glow of resolute kindness. 😌  With love and grace, Francesca xx

EVEN IN STILLNESS, WE CAN CHANGE: A solstice reflection on quiet transformation, poetry and healing

My agapanthus beginning to bloom by the front door in Spain

I promised myself a giant, glittering dose of optimism at the start of 2025, determined to start the year in the best way possible. I drove to the beach by myself on New Years Day and dove into the chilly Mediterranean, emerging with a smile on my face as I snuggled into my turquoise towelling poncho with yellow bananas on it.

 

At the time I was still on cortisone for IBD but scheduled to start tapering the next day. As soon as I began to taper, my symptoms returned in full force. After much reflexion, initiated during the previous year in case cortisone didn’t put me into lasting remission, I decided to go on immunosuppressant therapy. I began Entyvio infusions in late March, completing the three loading doses by May 1, and recently had my fourth treatment, this time subcutaneously. From now on I will self-inject every two weeks.

 

My intestines are a little quieter, but I remain housebound most of the time, and continue to find refuge, fulfilment and entertainment in poetry. I don’t always succeed, but I don’t think I’m doing too badly. Freedom will come. It will!

 

Of course, my psychiatrist and my anti-depressant medication help enormously, as does my neuropathic pain medication for fibromyalgia.

 

Since today is the summer solstice, I wanted to mark this moment by celebrating what I consider my biggest achievement so far this year: the publication of Illicit Croissants At Dawn.

 

As many of you know, my daughter, Olivia Bossert, a fashion photographer and mixed-media artist in the UK, illustrated the book and designed the cover. A few weeks after the launch, Olivia surprised me with a gorgeous reel to celebrate it. I’ll share it here in case you missed it, or in case we hadn’t met yet.

 

The book has sold relatively well (better than expected, frankly!) and the feedback has been consistently wonderful, even from people who don’t usually read poetry. My voice has been compared to a grown-up, bohemian Shel Silverstein! If you need a poetic poolside companion for your holiday, Illicit Croissants At Dawnwould be delighted to come with you.

 

Another highlight of this year was being featured in Alisa Kennedy-Jones’ Substack, THE EMPRESS. I thought Alisa had made a mistake when she first contacted me about the interview. Oh, me of little self-confidence!

 

There are so many other things I could write about today, but I kind of want to go and make a cake!

 

Before I go, I want to congratulate Anna Schott on her book deal! Anna was one of the first people to interact with me when I tiptoed into Substack in November 2023. She’s a lovely person and a phenomenal writer and I can’t wait to hear more about this fantastic news!

And now, off we all go, whirling towards the winter solstice! 

With love and gratitude,

 

Francesca xx

 

Have you bought your copy yet?

 

 

OPERATION BUGALOO: they came, the crawled, they cleaned

 

“We argue over chores. Ants just get the job done.”

🌿🌿🐜🐜

 

Impressive insect intervention at breakfast time

This morning!

Yep, a busy bugaloo of creepy-crawlies,

Presumably ant-related,

Out and about,

Scaling the eastern wall,

Swift and efficient caretakers

Of some mysterious essential.

 

Appeared, acted, evaporated.

We thank them for their service!

 

 Have you read my poetry collection, Illicit Croissants At Dawn? Enjoy it with its Spotify playlist, especially created with a song per poem 🎧🎧❤️❤️🍾🍾

BREAKING: MELANIA SEEN RIPPING UP ORDERS

Image by AI

Would Melania jump to it?

Would she stand in his way?

Could she become our saviour

At the end of the day?

 

Would she tear through the White House

With her hair all undone,

Yelling, Donald, just stop it,

We’ve all had enough.

 

Would she march right up to him

In yesterday’s clothes,

Put her hands on her hips

Snarl, “You insane big oaf,”?

 

Would she kick out his gofers,

His partners in vice,

Would her slitty eyes glisten

As she held her chin high?

 

Would she tell him to sit-stay

On his Big Oafy Throne?

Would she tear up his orders

And unplug his phone?

 

Would she call off the countdown

Like an action heroine?

Would she type in the codes

As our chances grew slim?

 

Could she become the person

She surely could be?

A historical figure,

Not corrupt arm candy.

🌿

I wrote this because...

Well, flippin' eck! Surely Melania has a conscience and a brain?

Surely she's not just a vapid slitty-eyed barbie/bimbo who couldn't care less if everything goes KABOOM? Surely she knows she'd go KABOOM too?! S

Surely she's not just reading romcoms and sipping champagne in a Dior bikini and Louboutin flip-flops at Mar-Al-Lago?

Surely she's seen - I don't know - Don't Look Up, and Independence Day, and 24, and Designated Survivor and had a little think?

Surely?

Don't you think?

Pffffffff....

Francesca xx

A RECIPE FOR PEACE, WITH EXTRA TOMATOES AND A SIDE OF GLORIA

Hello!

I haven’t managed to produce a video a day, but I’ve done quite a few, so I’m not too disappointed with myself. It is SO HOT, so I’m a little shiny! Also, I’ve never done a real video post in the setting before, so I’m not sure what I’m doing…

If it works, I hope you enjoy it!

Have a good day,

Love,

Cesca xx

PAGING REESE WITHERSPOON: the disaster movie has no snacks. Also, may I suggest spiking the Brownies?

The pigeon in the poplar
sounds disconsolate today.
Not that he’s ever been Mr Boogie Wonderland.
But today?
His four-note coo is off,
and sorry really does seem to be the hardest word.

Me?
Against all odds,
I’m trending in the Optimism department,
and gone full viral in the Hope section.
Yep!

Might as well drop everything and soar.

Because honestly, where exactly am I supposed to store
the relentless 3D Dolby-surround-sound
big disastrous disaster movie
boomed on a loop from ginormous global speakers
(no popcorn, no Maltesers, no ice cream,
no break, not even a lighthearted trailer)?

Enough.

Can someone from the Nightmare Team
go rogue and bake Happy Weed Brownies
for the writers’ room?

Or maybe…
Can Reese Witherspoon please intervene?
Like, legally?

***

Pff! Seriously…

Also, I want Sugus. And Chockitos. And a Mars bar.

Love,

Francesca

Find Illicit Croissants At Dawn here

Poems for Breakfast, Lunch and Dinner

Ever since I bought this book, about a month ago, I've been enjoying Francesca's poems with my breakfast. I can only read one or two poems a day, because I like two savor poetry, and the poem I read would then keep me company for the rest of the day. Francesca's poetry sparkles. At a first read I was always entertained by the wittiness and the energy of the words, but then the deeper thought behind them would rise to the surface, and would resonate throughout the day. This is a book I'll keep coming back to.
- Lisa F.

SOFT VOICE, SHARP ARROWS: WHEN DELAY MEETS PRECISION

This is for all those who think of the perfect comeback three days later. Or three months later. Or whenever.

I have found poetry to be the satisfying weapon.

SOFT VOICE, SHARP ARROWS: WHEN DELAY MEETS PRECISION 

You may think

You got away with

Offending me,

Insulting me,

Disrespecting me.

Ha!

 

Your unkindness pierced

my fragile skin,

burrowed deep into my psyche.

It smoulders,

silver-hot,

slithering like mercury,

shifting shape,

becoming stealth-driven arrowheads

engraved with your initials.

 

Sticks and stones, my dear?

 

Wait for my words:

slowly sharpened,

fiercely finessed.

 

You may never even know what hit you.

 

 Enjoy my poetry? Read my poetry book, ILLICIT CROISSANTS AT DAWN

 

A RECIPE FOR PEACE WITH EXTRA TOMATOES AND A SIDE OF GLORIA

Bring us boring.

Make life mundane,

calming, quiet.

 

End endless evil.

Deliver us from drama,

racism, tension and greed.

 

Cast out calamities,

kerfuffle, complications.

Outlaw war, and war-wankers.

Give us birdsong, not bombs.

Exorcise authoritarians, dictators, fascists,

Do-badders.

Brainwash them with puppies and kittens and baby donkeys.

Dress them in turquoise and aquas and pinks.

Drape them in cottons and silks and sparkles.

Read them romcoms and poetry,

Sing them love songs,

Feed them fresh Spanish tomatoes and figs,

Purge them with organic prunes.

 

And if, despite our best efforts,

They’re still peevish, prejudiced, pompous, obstreperous,

And nasty human beings…

Send them to Gloria.

She has a juicer and no time for nonsense.

 

I think she’ll sort them out.

 

 Illicit Croissants at Dawn is available on Amazon. It is getting more and more lovely reviews!