ORNA ROSS

Historical Fiction

Poetry

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A Week In Words: "Are You?" A New Poem.

    again. Are you not mother? That is the question that must be posed and not just to those who work the world with their pants less stuffed, with their arms held aloft when not wrapped round the chores and the children and, yes, round the big boys too,...

On Borrowed Time

We lie together in a gifted bed knowing the alarm is set to sound, your thighs a seat I'm settled on, mine wrapped warmly round your hand. We burrow in the minutes that remain before the clock will cut in to announce the time has come for us to peel apart. Shall it be...

Poem of The Week

A Ritual To Read To Each Other If you don't know the kind of person I am and I don't know the kind of person you are a pattern that others made may prevail in the world and following the wrong god home we may miss our star. For there is many a small betrayal in the...

My Oxford All Nighter

#writerwednesday. I'm excited to be speaking about the Alliance next Friday at NOT The Oxford Literary Festival (NTOLF). This event was started two years ago by writer/performers who were frustrated by the high admission prices at the … yes…Oxford Literary...

My Chicken-Skinned Arm

One of the many interesting people I've met at The Red Vic, the B&B I'm staying in here in San Francisco, is Laurie Marshall, writer, educator, peace activist and artist.  Laurie is instigator of The Singing Tree Art Project, aiming to unite divided young people...