Never Give Up

Rejected 7 times auditioning for Game of Thrones, he was meant for better things…..but his ability to accept rejection over and over again, says so much about this man, SAM.

Courage, stubbornness, an innate faith in his own ability, and a solid background of hard work instilled in him by his creative Mother.
You’re an inspiration Mr Heughan.



Wedding Night

Surrendering himself to his new bride’s touch
He stands, his entire body yearning
Almost melting into her
But giving in, allowing
As she slowly explores
His strong, beautiful young body…..

And she…..glides slender fingers
Across his skin, so slowly
Delaying, extending her pleasure
And his….
Until she turns, faces him
Looks down, then up into his face
His slanted dark blue eyes
Her wanting matching his
Sees him quivering with desire

She loosens the ties of her shift
And he moves quickly
Wraps strong arms around and lifts
Carries her willing
To their marriage bed
Enters her then, pleasures her
Until their voices cry out together
On that night when first they wed.

MargaretArlen ©️


I wake to the salty tang of it
Dress quickly
Breakfast can wait
Already the pavement burns under
My summer hardened feet
It’s going to be hot
Dropping my towell on the warm sand
I run towards the sparkling waves
Everything shimmers
Silvery/Blue /Green
In the morning sunlight
Running in, diving, gasping
With the shock of cold
The taste of salt
The slap of wavelets
Against my skin……

Then I wake !!!
It was all a dream……

MargaretArlen ©️ Spring 2015

A Cuckoo in the Nest

The little Thrush worked tirelessly…..a Falcon had killed her mate and so she left the nest making swift forays to feed herself, never going too far away….. returning to her three speckled eggs. Then one day as she flew in and perched on the rim, the nest had changed… very large egg had been placed right in the centre.
Her mothering instincts accepted the new egg, and she adjusted her body to fit the new shape….the largest egg a protruding lump, beneath her.
Days turned to weeks….her life was difficult with no mate to feed her, but her only conscious thought was the protection of her eggs…..all of them.
They cheeped to her as she sat, her soft belly feathers a constant protective warmth around them….she spoke back, bending her neck, turning the eggs with her delicate beak, mothering.

One by one they hatched, three perfect replicas of herself and her mate, and one huge exception. Now finding food on her own took her all day.
The largest chick was insatiable, greedily pushing in, taking from the others.
The little mother was barely eating herself, her body just soft brown feathers and fragile bones. Each return to the nest, there was one less Thrush baby, but driven by instinct she kept feeding the remaining chicks….feeding the interloper.

The days passed, Spring turned to Summer….exhausted from the constant search for food, she landed, crop filled to feed her nestlings as dusk descended on the day.
One chick remained, the Cuckoo …..beak opened, its voracious appetite demanding, as she disgorged her feed into its gaping beak.

The Cuckoo outgrew the mother, pushing her aside in the nest with vicious little pecks, yet still she flew back and forth, feeding it.
It grew flight feathers, sat on the rim of the nest flapping its wings, hopping back and forth with tiny practise flights, constantly pecking the small mother, as it grew bigger, stronger.

And then one sunny summers day, it flew….bold and strong, straight out through the protective cover of branches into the flight path of the same Falcon, who seized it with strong talons and carried it away to feed its hungry nestlings.

The little thrush sat quietly on the rim of the nest, preening her feathers.
Nearby, she heard the soft siren call of a male. He flew back and forth, courting her and in the fullness of time, she left the nest behind….flew with him to a secret glade far, far away, to begin again.

MargaretArlen ©️
Spring 2020

The Wedding

He stood before me
At the old church door
A vision of such splendour
I forgot every promise I’d made before
This moment

Strength, beauty, kindness, grace
All made clear
On his beautiful face
In this moment….I forgot my fear
My misgivings
The husband I’d left only weeks before
I forgot my past life
Walked up to the door
And as he took my arm
As he led me inside
All I wanted in this moment
Was to be his bride

The cuts were deep
The blood flowed free
The ties that bound us
Soaked and bloody
I looked up into his clear blue eyes
Down at the linen binding ties
And cared not for what may come
Or what was left behind
In this moment
I am his
He is mine

In this moment
Before the Altar
Of the new Gods and the Auld
I surrendered the past
Knew In my soul I was bound to him
This would be my last
My one, my only love
My kin

In this moment
In this Sacred place
In the eyes looking back at me
In his beautiful face

Mine, His
There is only this
Back then
Yet, here, opening up to him
There is only this
This Holy tie that binds
As the Priest intones
You my kiss your bride
In this moment

I give myself to you now
As bloods drips from the ties
That bind our vow
He is my husband
I his wife
Bound body and soul
Bound for life

Nothing exists
Between us now
But this

This first kiss.


Eternal Lovers

In This Moment

Her thoughts of a frantic husband
His memory of the warmth of her body
On that long, long ride
On that dark, wet night
Forced back into some strange normality
They are separate, yet linked
The bindings of twin souls
He knows it, and so does she
They are children of the stars
From now, for all Eternity


Spring 2020

The Weight


You’ve gone too far
this time
They say
How far is too far
I ask them then
Is this far enough?
And I start covering myself
In layers of
Not far enough
The weight is unbearable
So heavy, my knees give, and
bowed down towards the ground
I give in
Is this ok I ask, voice dry and broken?
Yes…..this is good
Good good girl.

MA©️ October 2014



I FELL IN LOVE WITH JAMES FRASER through Claire’s eyes; as the main narrator she describes him in such fine detail, I know the essence of the man….through Diana’s descriptive prose and my very keen sense of smell, I too could pick him out of a crowded room of men, simply by his smell……a mixture of coffee, whisky, gunpowder, horses and manure, his sweat…..the deep male smell of him. His long graceful bones, the way his mane of copper russet bronze and auburn hair, lifts in stray wisps about his face, because he is either fiercely animated, or like a lions mane, falling around his shoulders in the frenzied passion of love making.
The quirk of his mouth, his wry humour, courage, honour and accomplishments.
A unique talent for absorbing both people, learning and languages into his life.
A man of big passions, ferocious loyalties and all encompassing generosity.

I FELL IN LOVE WITH JAMIE through Claire’s eyes, until so deeply absorbed in the “more real than life” story, Claire fell away. I was Claire…, loving, breathing him in, waiting for him to return from battle, from hunting, from visits with neighbouring Cherokee or working alongside him, and healing him.

AND THEN I FELL IN LOVE AGAIN, through Roger’s eyes. Roger knows Jamie when he arrives at Frasers Ridge….Roger, the “dog with a bone” Historian, has been hearing Claire’s story, researching Jamie’s History…..Culloden, Ardsmuir, Helwater. He has already developed a relationship with Jamie, two hundred years before he meets him (Yes my mind gets tied in knots too)!!! Before Claire leaves Inverness for the second time, Roger finds her fast asleep in the Reverend Wakefield’s Study, clutching the Ardsmuir Prison Records to her breast, her heart….he has a deep affection for Claire, and says to her sleeping figure, and to the long dead Jamie, “I don’t know who you were mate”, he whispered to the unseen Scot, “but you must have been something, to deserve her.”

And then there follows the catastrophic mess, through Lizzie’s mistaking Roger for the monster who has violated Brianna…..we know what follows, and once the two men have come to terms with each other, something beautiful happens.

ROGER AS NARRATOR won me over in a completely new way. He sees Jamie from a very different perspective. There’s understandingly, in the beginning, lingering resentment, but that changes subtly to begin with, as the two men take the measure of each other. I’m often brought to unexpected tears, by Roger’s reference to Jamie as “the big Scot.”
Why should that make me cry??? I think it’s the knowledge of how much suffering that big body has gone through….and, for some reason those words are a trigger for tears.
Roger refers to Jamie’s “panther like grace”, he wants his approval, and can’t help the jealousy he experiences around Jamie. One vivid description is of Jamie standing back, eyeing Roger dispassionately, as though he were buying a bullock at the saleyards. This comes about when Roger asks him “Teach me to fight.” There’s some brilliantly witty dialogue that follows with Jamie telling Roger he had his first sword at five…..Roger had a toy train with a red engine at the same age. But Roger is equally stubborn, also a man of learning and finally a deal is made. He describes his first experience with “the art of the sword, with Jamie Fraser as his opponent, as like fighting a cloud.”
But Jamie develops a strong affection and respect for Roger, and during the Ritualised Ceremony of The Fiery Cross, when Jamie calls out to him, “Come stand by me, Roger Jeremiah, son of my house”, there is a fierce pride and a belonging, a love for his Warrior Father-in-Law.

There is too much to include here. Roger as Narrator, brings James Fraser to life, in vivid detail that naturally is completely different to Claire’s. A man’s observation that also at times is unemotionally clinical in his Historian’s viewpoint of Jamie.

I LOVED JAMIE FRASER EVEN MORE, viewing him through Roger’s descriptive narration.

MargaretArlen ©️. Wednesday Writings
Spring, Central Victoria, Australia 2019.

References from Diana Gabaldon
And thanks to the talented Vera Adxer for her fabulous Art.


“Your heart beats fiercely, mine just ticks”


Returning to this rare gem, just this week.
Directed by Alan Rickman, his final Film.
Abundantly beautiful, with the extravagant wit and sardonic humour that is at the heart of Alan Rickman’s body of work.


By Canadian Filmaker Jean-Marc Vallee
The Soundtrack is a major Star, featuring Pink Floyd’s
“Dark Side of the Moon” and Sigur Ros “It’s You.”

Soul mates
Downs Syndrome
Raunchy sex scenes
Visits with a Psychiatrist


Vannessa Paradis
Kevin Parent
Helen Florent
Evelynne Brochu
Marin Gerrier as Laurent
Alice Dubois as Veronique