It just snapped!

Hand crafted from rip-stop nylon; 

Factory floor pickings, from the Balloon factory, 

Made a fantastic kite,

Run up on the sewing machine;

A last ditch attempt to take part
In 'family' oriented activity

An indian summer of a day.

Beautifully clear, kite flying perfection.

Happiness shared - a proper family outing.

Strains on the kite string, taught and singing

Flapping uncertainly and then soars,

Higher and higher.

A kite soaring free into the blue.

Freedom, until wound back in.

Wound back in and encased.

Ready for another sojourn.

But, instead it flies still whilst I walk.

Obedient on the lead behind me.

Until it meets its fate;

Becomes entangled in branches.

String becoming tighter still.

Until it just snapped!

A free kite now

Free, but completely alone.

Remembrance . . .

Lovingly . . .

His gentlest touch - reassures me.

'That' look beguiles me.

That 'moment' imprints on my memory.

His open arms, welcome me.

His wondrous touch - excites and delights me.

We love - rhythmically.
We touch, tempt, and caress ecstatically . . .

And slumber - blissfully!

Shall I compare you to a cactus

Shall I compare you to a cactus?

You'd fit well into that category;

Apart from the bleedin' obvious,

And you're the biggest one I know;

You have sucked my life-source dry

As do the succulents in their arrid environs.

Their barbed spines easily compare

To your poisonous, spikey comments.

Should they accidentally embed themselves

Into skin, unprotected, they will

Hook in for ever! Until either lovingly tweezed out

Or work themselves out over days and months;

Like the worst kind of splinter.

I inwardly howled with laughter as you

Had hundreds in your back. 

I tweezed out the majority - but left you one - or two!

Oh! and by the way . . . I poisoned your
Pride and joy, systematically
Before I left!

254bcd44-9bf9-47b9-9168-003d9ba52838

1.03.01

Had Shakespeare known the internet

Had the internet been around in Shakespeare's Day

Would the bard have taken to it?

Would it have been an improbable fiction,

Might he have scanned the browsers 

And searched with bated breath;

Until he found a hit, a very palpable hit.

And away quickly to write it down

On parchment page with quill.

Or, do you think he'd struggle somewhat?

Feeling a blinking idiot!

Unable to master or see the point

Of social networking skills -

Maybe he'd message comically

And laugh oneself into stitches.

Which makes a change from LOL 

Expletives being replaced with WTD

What the dickens! Perhaps?

Oh! would he see it as chaos is come again

Or there's method in the madness?

Would he blog his poetry

And tweet to let us know

When latest play being performed

Or include it as his status.

Might he set up a website for all to see

Oh! What would you do Will Shakespeare

Had the internet been with thee?

Enough of my musings now -

It's not the be-all and end-all.

Can't replace the wondrous thrill of books,

Or meeting people face to face.

But I'd like to think the bard succeeded

And 'IT' held an honoured place.

Drop gently

Echoing my latest traumas,
Suitably equips the day for tears.
Staring at mosaic traffic lights
In wobbly formation over my windscreen.
Wiped away in one fell swoop, still red
I wait for the changing light. Wiper sweeps again.
If only it were that easy. Swipe away!
Why can't my tears wipe like that?
Disappear with a wiper blade.
Instead, recurring on daily basis;
Wiped but not forgotten.
Drop gently,soundless, no bereft sob.
Quiet, tears rolling - in peaceful reverie.
Tears to echo the day, constant drips of rain.
I set off again, still weeping silently.
Clouds tease apart with surgical precision.
Revealing some hope of blue; some hope
But none for me: my rainbow does not appear.

Storm

Retreating under eiderdown, taking solace from thunderous roar.

Hoping, praying 'it' won't get me and I'll be safe once more.

Daring not to peep and plugging fingers in my ears,

Dreading when the next crash comes and heightening my fears.

Accompanied now by intense glare; lighting up my room.

I start to count in elephants... until the next vile boom.

"It's only a cloud's tea-party". My parents used to say;

I'd hate to know what's going on. . . have giants come to play?

It must be quite a bad storm 'cause soon Mum's standing there.

Snuggles in right next to me, protects me in her care.

I try to seem much braver now but crashes still abound.

Mum's here now, no need to fear, I'll be safe and sound....

Years on now, I love a storm, love the anticipation

Loving the romance, sharing the moment - watch in fascination

As lightning partners thunder in some curious angry dance.

Nowadays I'd be joining them, given half a chance!

My husband wraps his arm round me and pulls me close to him.

Seems a lifetime ago, when I was small and feared life and limb;

Hiding under bedclothes, being nearly driven insane;

Listening for poor cats and dogs, stranded in the rain.

No fear grips me; in loving caress, we listen out, intrigued.

Listen for our own child's cries to comfort if were needed.

But no calls come; sleeps peacefully not clutching covers tight,

And we return to sleep and let the storm take on it's might.

Views from the driving seat

Cocooned inside the car, stationary for the last few minutes,
Creep crawling, shifting gears barely out of 1st!
Shuffling slipper-clad down the straight black and white chevrons;
Nudging a place here and there, 'Mr impatient' whizzing by in trainers,
Only to find on his half - he still has to shove into a space.
Got you a long way mate, didn't it! 

Gaps widening a little; off in our own little worlds,
To our places of work or whatever beckons.
Coquettishly winking and doing the car - excuse - me:
We move off in gears 3 & 4 to progress a couple more miles.
At last en-route, at last not tut-tutting - or worse!
As the minutes tick by and destination is in reach.

You Promised . . . . I Promised

You promised to love me for ever.
You promised your vows to me.
I promised to love you for ever.
I promised my vows to you.
I respected you
You respected nothing
I gave you me my body, my love, my honesty 
You gave me distress, upset, heartache, abuse.
I made you unaccountably irritated, annoyed, impatient.
You made me fearful, restrained, introverted, desperate.
I drowned in pity
You drowned in beer.
You took away my self esteem, passion, decisions, self image
I took away our son.
I tried so hard!
You tried to destroy me
I forced a smile
You forced me to do things I did not want
I changed for self preservation
You changed me indelibly
You broke my spirit, possessions, our son's toys  
I broke my heart
You dreamt of god knows what
I dreamt I was killing you, I might be happy one day
I felt lost, unloved, pathetic 
You felt empowered
I reported you to the G.P. but only once
You reported me as mentally unstable to the police
You threw vile things at me
I threw away my life for you
You left me bereft
I LEFT YOU!





















  

Autumn fantasy

Bleary-eyed blueness nudges through;

Teases away October haze.

Gently dries sparkles of dew,

Pin-points spun-webs' silken maze.

Replaces fog duveting the land,

As it's clutched against the fields

Reluctant to let it go, as if disturbed

In sleep, to let it yield.

Reveals the day and what a Day!

Trees, shiver down their leaves;

Tumbling acrobats, from hued display

In colours magical, they weave;

Cascading from each trembling branch:

Their welcome now outstayed;

And rest in littered earthy mass:

No memory now of where they played.

One Woman

One woman . . . one previous 'owner';

No sense of humour, completely erased.

Self esteem successfully eradicated;

No sense of well-being; stamped out and on.

Mental health teeters on the brink.

Loveless demands made; to satisfy

Idiocy being the norm now . . .

According to you!

One woman, loved unconditionally.

Treated as equal, respected and cherished.

Contentment together; appreciating each other.

No longer an 'object'.

Scrambled from the pit;

Pulled to freedom.

I'm loved as a woman . . . no demands made:

Pure bliss and enjoyment.

One person changed everything

Nurtured this woman's recovery

And made me whole.

'Me Time'

I need some 'Me Time'; no specific reason,

Whilst trudging aimlessly through crowded store

I conclude that 'trudging' could be better spent.

Facing the 'Wrekin' - Giant hurled mound

So folklore would have us believe;

I walk through Keatsonian mist, now clearing.

Marching on through muddied leaf litter;

In footwear far inappropriate

I take in gulps of revitalising air!

Pine trees needling my nostrils

Damp oaky mulch underfoot.

To my right the ribboning 'M-way'.

To left the Buildwas Powerhouse;

Giants' egg-cups of my infancy.

I survey the wondrous panorama.

'Me time' has been achieved!

Driving homeward bound through woolly studded hills;

I check the gauge . . . and need re-fuelling!

Sunburnt

Summer's past sand squiggles to escape my toes,

As I stand heat-bound on the shore,

Tingle salt-spray bathes them;

A break from sand castle building chores.

I'm nudged into sea-side memories,

As I bundle out covers to sway,

I drape the cool dampness toga-like

Around my neck; this scorching May

Transported to a childhood holiday, 

Calming my sunburned back - chalky lotion.

Seeking out the coolest patch of sheet.

Painful, burned, a spoiled emotion.

Inevitable

My hushed, professional calm stills your room;

Desists the fluorescent clamour

Outside your door.

Belies the constant nag of phones and bell requests.

'Your' light is dimmed and dimming still,

As time beyond ticks on at frantic pace.

You don't know I'm here,

Besides your bed; regulation, crisply made.

I barely got to know you,

Yet here I am to hold your frail, pallid hand;

Token comfort towards the inevitable.

Peacefully calm in your repose.

Your face at rest calms me,

Conceals my 'not supposed to be' fear

At your passing - 

I squeeze your hand with gentlest touch

You'll soon be free from contorted pain

You'll soon be free - rest now!