-The fallen winter rose-

This is a collaboration with the amazing wordsmith, writer and poet


and it is Nathan who is the author behind this blog.

Nathan is a good friend from across the ocean and he is a lovely soul with a warm heart.

He write poems and short stories and even few lines. His few lines are so powerful and with so much meaning so I become speechless.

His poems is so heart touching with vividly imagery so my mind spinning around and just won’t leave the world Nathan create.

His short stories is like a colorful rainbow. You want to be among his beautiful words and pictures and the taste of glory and love and sorrow and pain.

You always captivated me with your words.

You always mesmerize me with your words.

you always make me catch a feeling.

My dark soul and my dark heart will always twisted me in his pure red heart and shiny soul.

He want to create a world for everyone to enjoy and Nathan, your mission is complete.

Give him a follow and your love and be enchanted by his words.

You are a big star in my eyes and I am always looking forward to your words. I am so grateful to you❤️yes, I give you a little heart with so much meaning because I can’t thank you enough.

You will set the world on fire…

I feel honored and humbled to write this poem with you. You was such a delight to work with, thank you.

My art of interpretation to the poem.

-The fallen winter rose-

Let us go, then, back:

to summer,

where long looks languid lie in

the 8:34 sunset breeze 

necks stretched back to catch a corner of

the sky

hearts on fire

the silent retreats

(every time our eyes meet, the long looks of

diamond and pearl and saffron

and jade surrender themselves and sink

into an ocean of tendernesses):

A seed, a little piece of something more

a heaven, a haven, a refuge for restless

thoughts that

don`t let the memory fade though the

night-time disappears like 

last drops of an angel’s tears shaken from

the end of a juniper bough,

the spark of a new dawn, a raid on the

inarticulate, a salve 

for the murmurings of a broken heart.

Let us, then, go back,

tilbake til den endelige sangen,

siste dansen

til jorden, svidd, i ild fra en gnist innenfra

til brenningen, kloringen, krypingen

(lost, not forgotten, a fleeting emotion, a

ghost, hunting

a spirit of unconsecrated yearning railing


the knowing and the unknowing and the

wall between your cell

and mine).

Let us go back to the rose petal 




from the spaces between lion and

the dove,

a touch of sorrow, an open wound 

undressed, a starless night, a cloud

on the face of the sapphire moonlight –

a path, a melody, the strange sadness 

that runs slowly through your veins

every August 24th

(congealing memory and condensing solace

into the

back alley cornerstone of an age that


was ours to begin with),

men, husk meg som pusten som blåste ut

lyset og tente de mørkeste tankene dine

med et kyss fra en fallende vinter rose.

-Orkidedatter & Nathan https://themythofprometheus.wordpress.com

When you lose someone

Art and words are always mine…

Watching you go

– your hand in mine loses grip

– sliping away

it’s like no other pain

I’m lost without you

I can’t breath

I need you

I miss you

your spirit waving at me

your soul is the brightest I have ever seen

I hope your ghost will hunt me

and wipe away my tears

– hollow

– deep painful grief

my crying shadow is trying to hide

I will never stop sobbing

the memories burn me down to the ravine

stairs to heaven…….wrong side of nirvana…

a rope led down into the dark eternity

I can’t handle this anymore

I know I find you there…

You have an hourglass that you

received as a gift

there are the days that slowly

flow down,

and you can look back to the

Garden of Eden

where it began under the fig trees of life.

I’m sitting here alone, so puzzled

Because nobody knows so well what

that means to miss the one you love and

admire, maybe you must have experienced

this yourself to understand…

Because if tomorrow never comes…

-no one can cry all the tears for me-

I am lost –

did I in every way show him

how much

I love you.

Whatever the circumstances, always tell those you love that you love them …

life is fragile


Mysterious rooms

(English text after the Norwegian text)

Hun er som et stort hus

Med mange rom som ikke er funnet ennå

Ingen som vil

Ingen er modig nok

Ingen ønsker å grave i henne

Det er ikke mistet

Bare gjemt

Mistet kontrollen

Lever på kanten

Blir kuttet

Kan slukke lyset

Dårlig i kjærlighet

Som et spøkelse

Går hun igjen hos deg

Gjennom vegger og tak

Begraver sin sjel innenfor deg

Ønsker seg hjem

Ingen kan gi

hun er trøtt av å være normal

vil være usynlig

bare litt til

ingen tørr….



Mysterious rooms…

She’s like a big house

with many rooms not found yet

no one wants to

no one is not brave enough

no one have a desire to dig into her

it’s not lost

just hidden

lost controll

on the edge

had been cut into pieces

can turn off the light

bad at love

like a ghost she haunts you

through walls and ceilings

she buries her soul within you

she wants a home

no one can give her

she is tired of being normal

will be invisible a little bit

-because no one dares-

she is too mysterious


In the glow of a winters frozen moon.

This poem was inspired by a line

«In the glow of a winters frozen moon»

from my good friend https://


and is Mathew who is the author behind this blog.

When I read that line.. my mind and brain went crazy. Words started to spin and squeeze into my writing arm and I just had to let the ink dance over the paper.

I am honored to call you my friend.

Thank you Mathew.


In the glow of a winters frozen moon

In the wilderness night she is trying to

create her own snow angel with hope

she can sparkle togheter with the snow

crystals in the moonlight

tears falls down her cheek finding

their own ways in her skin


her sadness is the gateway to redemption

to know her sadness in silence

she is searching for something she can’t


she is off the deep end

will she awaken the phoenix or

the demons in your soul

in the embers of broken hearts her life

is a shadow of ghosts in darkrising

and she will never shine anywhere

but in the moonlight

she whisper your name gazing at the moon

among with the rustling autumn brown

leavs from last year


in the glow of a winters frozen moon

you are the silhouette of her heart in

every painful moments

until their hearts touch she is just a vibe

you can’t find nowhere else.


My collection of poems.

Well, this is my cover of my book.

It will eventually be published in both

English and Norwegian language.

I am so exited, but it will take some time…

But knowing that this dream will

eventually come true is incredible.

I work with this process almost day and

night for a while and have done it too and I

continue to it is published…

I just want you to know…

I love you all folks

Take care.



Nobody knew how much she blamed


she can’t breath in the end of the midnight

moonlight show her the path

she can’t get him out of her mind

one picture bringing back so

many memories

she can’t breath in the end of the midnight

she can hear the angels voice

a silent Lullaby

he is her univers

she is just a little human on earth

dancing with the moonlight shadow



pain – tasted blood

shoot her, the voice of the death said

she believe – hell is all she catch

the devils Lullaby is awakening

nobody gonna miss her

crawling on the floor

single bourbon on ice

a perfect storm in her head mixed with

a destroyed Lullaby on her jukebox

’cause this is where the country girl

slips away

she has bucked off.


Olsok: A summernight

Olsok is the celebration of (Olav den hellige) Olav the Saint’s death at Stiklestad (Trondheim) July 29, 1030. An important part of Norway’s history.

(Poem in English text after Norwegian text).

Hennes norske blod

rødt som kveldssolen

renner i hennes vikingårer

som er like blå som isbreen

hennes hud er melkehvit

som den kalde vintersnøen

hun danser mellom fjell og

daler der fossefall bruser

nedover til fjorden

en sommerkveld med blomster i håret

lett kjole som blafrer i vinden

hun er som en nyutspringet svart

rose med et hint av rødt mørke

har tent et bluss

har vunnet et slag

det knitrer i gledesbålet

med et merke av kjærlighet

som regnbuens tegn under skyene

så unik som hvert et snøfnugg

svømmer hun under stjernene

i nattens månelys i

romantikkens hav.



Her Norwegian blood

red as the evening sun

runs in her viking veins

which is as blue as the glacier

her skin is milky white

like the cold winter snow

she dances between mountains

and valleys where waterfalls

flow down to the fjord

a summer night with flowers

in the hair

a dress that flutter in the wind

she is like a fresh blossoming

of black roses with a touch

of red darkness

has lit a flame

has won a battle

it crackles in the joyful fire

with a mark of love

like the rainbow signs under

the clouds

as unique as every snowflake

she swims under the stars

in the moonlight of the night

in the ocean of romance.


My Black Stallion

When no one can save her

invisible heroes

she takes her Black Stallion with a name

after the dark, shines blue in

the sun’s rays

gallops into the sunset


maybe this time memories

fade into the ocean

dreams are so alive

day’s like a slow train ticking by

all she can hear is your

words haunting her

can’t get the melody out of her mind

she wonder if she is past the

point of rescue

often she hope her life is a fairytale

in a horror movie

she can’t close the door to her heart

she swears she never fall like this again.


Shades of black scars…

She tries to find peace because her heart

will heal

It’s beautiful, but worn

It has been attempted repaired

With needle and thread

If you look closely, you can see the shade of

the stitches torn off time after time

Looking even further in, deep behind her

heart, you can watch a glimpse of a face

It is like the shadows waving in the wind

You realize that the face belongs to the

heart, because they are equally ghostly

She turns her face away in disgust and


It storms in the heart’s rhythm

Faster and

faster, she won’t be anymore

It is like thorns from «the black rose» being

thrown at her, and she feels an

indescribable pain in her heart and it’s

burn in her soul

In the face behind the heart tears flow like

a waterfall

As a veil, they embrace her heart and dig

«the river of tears» bigger and demper

Tears from a darkness that no little girl

should know about

Tears from a scared soul that a soul never

should know about

Tears from a place within a little girl never

knew she had

A stolen body…but always a soul and a

heart that she hid and protected

Can she be whole again?

Is the last flame extinguished?

She can feel her heartbeat, breathes deeply

and try to find calmness

She wipes away the tears that quietly fall

down her cheek

Her body remembers

The heart knows

Her mind can deceive her

All of the emotions and experiences are

stuck in her body as the pain of a thorn

-Demons are screaming the worst she can


Her eyes can’t stop crying, her soul is

working to heal, her mind is trying to

connect with heart

A thousand broken pieces of her heart is

laying beside her in a chest of sorrows

With all her scars she begins to feel the

various nerves of the black paths

Trails she never wants to join again

They’ll be with her to the end of life and

she’ll try everything she can to make new

paths bright and beautiful next to the dark



My little «pearl» in Norway

Today’s dose of nature’s own energy.

I can breathe again

from the beauty of the water I let my dark

thoughts float down with the river

they end up in the ocean somewhere

they fade on their journey

I hope I never meet them again

I watch the sky, blue and beautiful, but

sometimes it is dark and powerful.

My feelings running through my veins, fast

and furious. It can be powerful too.

Sometimes it scares me

Sometimes I can reflect

Sometimes I can look back

Sometimes I can look forward

Sometimes I just want to be in the

presence of nature.

Often I dream

Often I don’t want to come back to my life

Often I hope my life is a fairytale in a

horror movie, but my life

is real.