Day 27 - How Did I Get Here

27th Oct 2019

Day 27

How Did I Get Here

On my birthday that year,

Not so long ago,

I took a chance, risked shattering 

My dream.

With palms sweaty, heart racing,

I plunged into the unknown.

I had no idea if I could, 

If it would work,

No confidence in who I was,

A woman with

With deep roots in the mountains

Of the forty shades, 

Storytellers for ancestors.

I should have known I could.

And I did.

And here I am.

Tongue - Day 7

7th Oct 2019

Day 7  of the OctPoWriMo challenge . Tongue is the prompt for today 

       You Are 

                

     When you are gone I close my eyes,

I close my eyes and think of you.

My inmost substance sees you there,

Encounters your presence.   

You Are

the light that brightens my gloom.

When I think of you I cannot breathe,

Mysterious shivers cascade through me,

I tremble at your touch, am caught in your embrace,

A warm flame rests within my heart,

I want to stay,   

You Are

The place I want to be..

I taste your lips, wondrous sweet,

relish every morsel,

True delight, honey from the bee,   

You Are

the only  sustenance for me.

I hear your gentle voice, whispering words of love,

Words that I long to secrete somewhere in my memory,

to be retrieved at times like this,    

You Are

Music to my ears, the echo of my dreams,

Murmurings that comfort me.

GettingOut

The prompt for today from OctPoWriMo was "Things Aren't Always What They Seem.."
So I wrote this:

Getting Out

Toys scattered, mums chatting,

Happy toddlers  - busy, noisy –

Racing round the Church Hall.

Smile, talk, join in with “friends”.

Coffee please, milk no sugar,

Thank you, yes it’s a lovely day.

Yes, he’s sleeping through now,

Thank God, I get some sleep too...

Who to sit next to, whose face welcomes?

Everybody happy ...

Smile...

Can they hear a heart beating fast?

At last it’s over...

Time to go home...

To shut the door...

To be alone....

Number 19

Grandad's New Little Darling

So small, yet so perfect,
Head the size of
A medium orange
Fingers like tiny twigs
On thin branches
Legs as thick
As grandad's fingers.
You open your eyes
Look into his,
Smile,
No, it was a smile.
Paying attention to
His love.
You are,
His new,
"Little Darling"
And already,
Little one,
You know.
So small, yet so perfect

The Ninth Hour

Day 4: 

4th April, 4th poem

Written yesterday-Good Friday:

The Ninth Hour

Caught up in the swollen mass,

 that surges, like a river  

overspilling its banks. 

I am elbowed,

jostled , pushed, shoved,

Through dusty streets, 

The frenzied multitude,

Ringing in my ears,

I look up .

Can I see Him?

For an eternal brief moment, we are chained in a look

His eyes wedded to mine - heart embracing heart.

He staggers

I squeeze through, bumped and kicked.

I look up

Can I see Him?

Innocence before me

I take my white linen cloth

To his face-disfigured, bruised 

Blood, sweat, soak into that veil.

my treasure.

Soldiers drag me away.

I cannot watch ,

His body - cut, wounded , battered,

Struggles up the slope

staggers-falls , staggers again.

All stop. The summit.

I look up,

Can I see Him?

The place of skulls

Nailed, hung, spared nothing.

Arms open wide in embrace.

The lamb on his throne.

It is the ninth hour.

We are expecting lots of busy-ness during the next two weeks so I will have difficulty writing for the blog and keeping up with the challenge. I do intend, however to give it a shot, even if what I post isn't as good or finished as I'd like. So carry on supporting and spreading and we'll see this through together.

Today:

Did you know?

Total Lunar Eclipse or "Blood Moon", is on April 4, 2015 and will be visible in most of North America, South America, Asia and parts of Australia.

Of course we can't see it here in the UK.

Woman Caught In Adultery

  I wrote this poem last year and have performed it a few times getting great feedback:

   

Woman Caught in Adultery

They drag me through rugged streets,

Men’s hands grip my arms,

Large fingers press into flesh –pale ,  bare

Their words wild, aggressive, accusing,  

Echo, in the chamber of my brain

While he is free,

I am going to die, Yet, I fear not the dying,

But the pain, how will I bear the pain.

Terror travels with blood through my veins

And he is free,

They throw me down, in the dirt, In front of a man,

My nose forced into the rough ground.

My Foetal shape makes no attempt to rise

The raging rogues  roar, ”she has to die , it is the law”

They get ready, reach for large stones,

 But he is free.

While the one man  sits  still,

Ponders, writes in the dust

Then,  lifts his head,

“ Let the one who is without sin cast the first stone”

His words fall like seeds into my aching heart.

Silence,

One by one rocks thud into the earth. The mob, heads bent, Leave.

Left alone with Him,- I dare to raise myself up

His eyes encounter mine, His look warm , accepting,

He Knows me, all there is.

And me, I know that I,

I am free.