I was born in Australia and my ancestors migrated to Australia in the 1850’s from England and Scotland. I live surrounded by the sea on Phillip Island with my husband, Michael, who is a visual artist, printmaker and writer. Together we create.
My secretarial working life has been varied, but mainly centered in the fields of travel and medical before I started my own small business, a personalized café.
My interest in writing did not develop until after my passion for horses which led me to experience many exciting times when I rode to hounds with the Melbourne Hunt Club. But then by some stirring of the soul, I was drawn to write poetry and my interest in the craft of writing began. Now the muse has completely overtaken me and I have many published articles in newspapers and faith magazines.
I have an aptitude for editing which I love and have worked as a researcher and editor for an online travel site. I also edited a mystery novel which has been published by Random House and currently I am editing two novels for a Greek film maker.
The photograph is black and white and was possibly taken about the year of 1900. It is a photograph of the nine children of the Wood family. My grandfather George was one of these children. I feel a great attachment to the photograph. It is like looking at a still from a movie as I […]
I walked under the old elm trees. It was a cold winter’s day and the air was sharp. There was no one to break the stillness. I was conscious only of the dank smell of wet leaves underfoot and the sheep and cattle grazing peacefully in the paddock across the creek.
At last it was possible to be myself, away from people. My thoughts were in emotional turmoil. Watching death creep insidiously through my mother’s body as cancer claimed her was hard to bear. I tried to grasp the inevitability of losing her. She was noble in her dying, never complained. “Andy’s randy today,” was all she would say when beset with pain.
A sense of peace prevailed among the people who seemed to be relaxed and happy after the pre-Christmas rush. They waited expectantly for Mass to begin which was to be celebrated by a visiting priest from Rome. Annie, our organist, had not arrived. I was told she wasn’t well and we must proceed without her.
By Gabrielle Morgan Among the many books on my bookshelves there are some more treasured than others, especially the ones which have been signed by the authors themselves. I often come across newspaper clippings of reviews that I had slipped between the pages and sometimes I find a lovely card still hides in the jacket […]
This fictional story was inspired by Michael Morgan’s painting “Bonjour!” Alain Durand missed his native France. Overcome with nostalgia, he walked along the path in the gardens which were an oasis in the city. Wistfully, he watched the people passing by and cherished the hope that he might chance to hear the intonation of his […]
By Gabrielle Morgan I was privileged to enjoy a cruise on the Marco Polo, Orient Line Scandinavian cruise ship, which docked in Sweden, Finland, Russia, Estonia, Denmark and the Norwegian Fiords. The ship is an ideal size for navigating the narrow passage of the Fiords. It carries 826 passengers and has a much more intimate […]
By Gabrielle Morgan Often a day can be quite remarkable. That day for me was the day I went in search of the village of my ancestors. I was alone in England, my first visit away from Australia, when I set out from London by train for Penzance, the southern most point in Cornwall. It […]