Bio: Sarah Wallis lives by the sea on the East Coast of Scotland, since moving from Yorkshire x4 years ago. She publishes cross genre, highlights are poetry in The Yorkshire Poetry Anthology, Abridged The Violet Hour, flash fiction at Ellipsis, a winning story at The Welkin and art in Feral. Recent work includes hybrid poem art at Osmosis, in print journals Gutter, Fragmented Voices, Eat the Storms –print and podcast. Chapbooks include Medusa Retold, Precious Mettle and How to Love the Hat Thrower.
Fuchsia the Illusionist
She sweeps in all tremble-breath, so perfectly Marilyn,
hour-glassing, bedazzling the gazing, adoring masses,
and they unkempt, bedraggled, full blown roses, through
a hedge backwards, she takes it all in and flicks her eyes
one way, smiling, then another, frowning as first one faints,
one fans, one befurgles themselves, Oh Marilyn!
She raises an eyebrow, a sunbeam smile and dark
glasses, waves... but still she is a fuchsia, an eminent
specimen, bedecked in fine pinks and purples, the soft
focus jewels, the balmy tinted nights, her twilight
chandeliers twinkle like sails at sunset, out of the light
ready to sparkle, lets her full skirts fall, begins the flower
duet, alone, a ballet on the breeze, lanterns lilt, for a final
breathless shimmywilt, down to the close of the day.
Fevers of the Mind 
“One befurgles themselves”! This is a rollicking, delightful poem. Much to admire in it.
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