creative writing

Iceberg’s Tip Décima

The problem with a slow dance is,
It’s flawless – besides when it’s not.
Time heals, forgiveness, forgot.
The dilemma with a trance is,
Giving out infinite chances.
March down a disappointing track,
Waiting for your disguise to crack.
Each final straw, each iceberg’s tip,
Expectations finally slip,
And now there is no waltzing back.

Image credit: pixabay.com

In response to Ronovan Writes’ Décima Challenge found here

creative writing

Visual Verse Publication II

I have had another poem published, entitled Our Summers, in the Visual Verse anthology.

A short poem celebrating childhood summers.

My inspiration came from my own childhood, which was spent knocking on neighbours’ doors and spending all day outside playing hide and seek.

creative writing

The Vows

I vow from this day,
To always find a way,
Through life’s obstructions.
With no interruptions.
To see them as the thrills.
Like cyclic, rolling hills.
I promise to respect and trust,
To never let our love rust.
When I look into your eyes,
Sparkling lapis lazulis,
There is an open door I see,
To which I say “open sesame”.
I’ll always stay true.
Honey, I love you.

Image credit: pixabay.com

In response to the Paint Chip Poetry Prompt Challenge #34 found here

creative writing

The Clown

It matters not whether I frown,
Nor lower my head in shame.
For I will always be the clown,
In your wicked game.
Even when I tread with stealth,
And deny all that you claim,
I will always be myself,
When you put me in the frame.
You may not devise my fate,
No matter how precise your aim.
I will rise above your hate.
With pride, I state my name.

Image credit: pixabay.com

In response to dVerse’s Clowning Around Prompt found here

Also loosely inspired by Emeli Sandé’s Clown.

creative writing

Birthday Haibun

I woke up on my 20th birthday with a sore head. I remember the clinking of glasses, the vibrations of the speakers, and the roll of the dice across the breakfast bar, from the night before. I smiled at the thought of celebrating late into the night with my friends.

It was time to smarten myself up ready to catch the train back home. I smeared foundation over the bags under my eyes.

Upon returning home, I saw a giant balloon with a hand-written 20 on it. I enjoyed a buffet with my mother and grandparents. I smiled at the thought of celebrating all day long with my family.

My mood is lifted,
Contrasting celebrations.
I smile at the thought.

In response to dVerse’s Birthday Haibun Challenge found here

creative writing

Remind Shi Rensa Haiku

A single moment.
One we will never relive.
When I fell for you.

When I fell for you,
Everything was simple.
Remind me to love.

Remind me to love.
Help me recall memories,
Forgotten feelings.

Forgotten feelings.
My eyes still drawn to your light.
Remind me to trust.

In response to Ronovan Writes’ Haiku Challenge found here

Rejigged into the Shi Rensa Haiku format coined by Ronovan himself!

creative writing

A Magic Flight

Add fuel to the golden fire,
To make us go higher.
We took flight with no wings,
Only colourful rings,
Clutching a woven basket.
It took a while to grasp it,
But once we were suspended,
It could be comprehended,
That there is more to life,
Than war and strife.
Our view is panoramic.
There is such a thing as magic.
Though with each refreshing sigh,
We draw closer to ravens in the sky.

Image credit: pixabay.com

In response to dVerse’s flights of fancy challenge found here

creative writing

Little Dreams, Strong Will

Back when I was little,
Unworthy and insignificant,
I was a drained and lazy lizard,
With dreams, so magnificent.
My dreams of a eutopia,
Became so real and recurrent.
Though they brought little euphoria;
I was trapped by a sea serpent.
Old leather boots struck terror,
Deep within my shielded heart.
Potpourri reminded me of home,
When my world was torn apart.
My escape from him was easy,
Once I climbed over self-blame.
Now I don’t count every penny,
Nor lower my head in shame.
I’m making myself a life I love,
Where I won’t feel homesick.
I’m yellow with contentment,
Like the earthy turmeric.

In response to the Paint Chip Poetry Prompt Challenge #30 found here

A poem for anyone who is made to feel small, to give them hope for a brighter future.

creative writing

Your Hinterland

When I think of you, I find myself looking towards the sky. I wonder if you are looking down at me.  Watching from above, with a pair of angelic wings. I believe that you are seeing heights only one stairway has ever led to.
I would prefer it if you were closer though. Thriving in flourishing meadows, behind the hills. I dream of watching you dance, as the playful breeze rattles the leaves of the oak trees. Just beyond the view from my window; your own hinterland.

Image credit: pixabay.com

In response to Sammi Cox’s Weekend Writing Prompt found here