creative writing

This Summer

Like the deciduous tree,
You will regain your leaves this summer,
And every year thereafter.
You will have life again,
As you will reside in my memories.
With every smile,
I will think of you,
And wish I could see
Your reaction too.
I will remember you also
With every tear,
I know how it felt to hold your hand,
And I will hope that you are near.

In memory of my mum.

creative writing

NaPoWriMo Day 30

Path to Certainty

On the path to certainty,
You’ll find many potholes.
The greenest blades of grass,
May point North, towards your goals,
But amidst the tallest strands,
Grow wicked stinging nettles.
Cross over where dandelion spores disperse,
And turn left when the last seed settles.

Mind the sheer drop.
Try not to hurry.
Stability and security
Fade when there is worry.

In response to the final “directions” prompt from NaPoWriMo.net

It has been an absolute pleasure to participate in NaPoWriMo this year. I am so grateful for the opportunity to converse with fellow poets and explore everyone’s interpretations of each prompt. It has been delightful!

creative writing

NaPoWriMo Day 19

Little Pot of Courage

Hopeless.
Nothing more than a self-pitying agoraphobe.
Lazing upon a little pot of courage
With a lid I claim is too tight to probe.
I can be fierce- I have seen it before.
If only I could loosen this thieving blighter.
Perhaps it is the fault of my own sweaty palms,
But I’m certain this fearful kitten is a fighter.

In response to the nineteenth “humourous rant” prompt from NaPoWriMo.net

creative writing

NaPoWriMo Day 8

Green, Victor

The tide was not completely in,
There had been no splashes on the sea wall,
All along the west of the beach.
And yet I heard the moon call.
I saw her enticing light,
But it was not my time.
Still, I lie buried beneath spades of dirt.
And for what crime?
I am fuelled with anger,
I, like the tide, never finished my round.
Now I have no power over you,
I’m just decaying in the ground.
I hope my love will not move on,
There’s no better man than me.
I knew what was best for you,
Tell my story right, I plea.
I never hurt you, never once.
I only taught you right.
Your wrongs were corrected,
Each time we had a little fight.
I can’t bear to watch over you,
When I have no control.
Instead I’ll walk across the sand,
As the untimely waves roll.

A continuation of Vic’s Haunt, a previous poem of mine!

In response to the eighth “Return to Spoon River” prompt from NaPoWriMo.net

Inspired by the poems featured in Edgar Lee Masters’ Spoon River Anthology.

creative writing

NaPoWriMo Day 4

Fairy Lights

I followed the fairy lights
To the end of the road.
They brought me no solace,
No matter how bright they glowed.
The walls carried an echo,
Even when I tiptoed.
With every step,
I was being
Followed.
But I never stopped,
And I never slowed,
Not until the end,
The end of the road.

In response to the fourth “liminal” prompt from NaPoWriMo.net

Image credit: pixabay.com

Written for anyone who has felt unsettled when walking alone at night.

creative writing

A Heart’s Echo

Quietly rocks the garden swing, swaying in time with the autumn breeze. My eyes fixate on the seat, clutching to the chains, longing to see delicate fingers wrap around them once again.
The porch door clatters as the cat shoots through the hall, stealing my attention. As my eyes wander back to the garden swing, I see it lift up with a gust of wind, as if a child had leapt from it, up into the air, grasping for freedom.
Footsteps. Sodden footprints and bits of tarnished leaf are scattered through the kitchen, leading to the lounge. I follow the trail, forever hoping it will lead to you. I miss you so much that my heartache echoes into my every thought.

creative writing

The Fall Décima

When you journey through memories,
Do you appreciate the ride?
Do you find love or hope or pride?
Do those old times put you at ease?
Or are you caught on choppy seas?
Do you close your denying eyes,
And pray for your boat to capsize?
Do you feel anything at all?
Besides the terrifying fall,
From dreamy fabricated skies.

Image credit: pixabay.com

In response to Ronovan Writes’ Décima Challenge #19 found here

creative writing

Empty Nest Décima

Hear the squawking of mother bird,
Chased by the devilish kittens,
Captured in their furry mittens.
Ears pricked. The silence was stirred,
But her pleading was quickly slurred.
Bringing emptiness to mourning.
Her baby bird awoke, yawning,
And longing for the feathered quilt,
Mother’s wings in the nest she built.
The baby sensed a shift dawning.

Image credit: pixabay.com

In response to Ronovan Writes’ Décima Challenge #14 found here

creative writing

Tough Days Ahead Décima

A heavy heart plated with lead.
When bad days turn to lousy weeks.
When sleeves wipe across sodden cheeks,
You don’t know how to help, instead,
Belittle me to get ahead.
You look down at me, this is true.
Uncultivated fields grew,
The hierarchy’s nourishment.
With too little encouragement,
The days are tough to saunter through.

In response to Ronovan Writes’ Décima Challenge #13 found here

creative writing

Left Behind

As we approach the end,
We become you and I.
We stood together once, but now,
You go your way, I’ll go mine.
I can’t look forwards,
Whereas you don’t look back.
You impulsively march onwards,
While I still wonder what to pack.
With steep mountains ahead,
I recoil, so afraid.
No sight of you in the distance,
I wish you could have stayed.
I need to be held tighter,
For longer, forever.
Even so, I wish you well,
With your courageous endeavour.
I still feel left behind,
Alone, in apprehension.
Until I find my own helm,
I’ll wade through this suspension.

Anxious thoughts tickle you into a state of paralysis. Remind yourself to take only small steps forwards.