Francesca Bossert's Blog, page 8

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!

MY BODY WANTS TO BE SPANISH SO I’M DOING AS IT BIDS

Good morning !

I’m flying back to Spain today, with all my new medication. I have my certificate from my doctor to say I’m not a drug smuggler, and am allowed to travel with my magic injections! I’m taking them in a little cooler, as the medications needs to be kept refrigerated. It’s suddenly become really hot, both in Switzerland and in Spain.

I’m trying not to get too excited, because I don’t want to jinx it, but I’m feeling much better after my last injection on Tuesday, so maybe something has tipped to the good side? Fingers crossed. My next one is in two weeks. It will be my first self-injection.

Anyway, I filmed myself reading My Body Wants to Be Spanish, which is from my new (it was released in April, so I think I’m allowed to still call it new, right?) poetry book, Illicit Croissants At Dawn, which would be a great little book to take to the beach, or the pool, and to dip in and out of! It’s a poetry book for people who are not sure they like poetry but enjoy honesty and humour. It’s playful, mischievous and moving. Why not give it a go? It also has a matching Spotify playlist, with a song for each poem! So you can put your ear-buds/air-buds/or whatever they’re called and enjoy the music under your parasol.

Here is My Body Wants To Be Spanish, read in Switzerland with wet hair!

THE BIG BAD EGG: scrambled, unfit to serve

Humpty-Dumpty has a big head.

Humpty-Dumpty lights powder kegs.

He’s playing with fire surrounded by liars,

While the whole world looks on with dread.

 

Humpty-Dumpty sits on his wall,

Swagger-tweeting he’s winning it all.

He’s sequestered the army to come to his party,

And most of the country’s appalled.

 

Humpty-Dumpty’s out of control,

Humpty-Dumpty has selfish goals.

Now many are fuming because nothing’s improving.

How long until Humpty implodes?

 

 

LIKE A PRAYER: For those lucky enough to rise gently

Come caress me, breeze,

Welcome me into the gift of today,

Let morning sunbeams

Enjoy my skin.

No sound but sparrows,

No one but me,

Lucky to just be.

 

 

Good morning,

It's one of those stunning, still mornings of another Swiss summer, and I'm sitting beneath my plane tree with my cup of tea, feeling ridiculously lucky. Little birds hop happily around the grass, butterflies enjoy the meadow area of the garden, while behind me, along the Jura mountains, two buzzards circle in the sky, enjoying the glide. The sky is finally blue again, after being tinged a milky-grey for a few days by smoke carried all the way from the Canadian wildfires.

 

And if that doesn't show us how connected we all are, nothing will.

 Have a gentle day,

 Love

 

Francesca xx