Category Archives: Poetry

Puddles

It rained for a long time
Just over two years
Then, gradually, it stopped

The rain still comes, sometimes
I’m usually prepared
I see it coming

The puddles though
They appear out of nowhere
And their depth can still take me by surprise.

Springstorm

Springstorm_honestspeaks.wordpress.com

It looks like it’s snowing outside
Blossom blows past our window
And some people stay indoors, complaining
It’s getting everywhere
It’s really annoying
I sort of agree
But then there’s talk of cutting down trees…
To prevent it happening again
Because we can’t stop the wind

I go out
The tiny petals irritate my eyes and go down my throat, making me cough
But you know what?
Eventually, it dies down
Stops
Leaves everything covered in a blanket of blossom
It’s a beautiful mess.

I dream of tangerines…

This poem is an old one, shared here especially for Maddy because I promised I would. (If you’re wondering Maddy, it was a while ago. Here, remember…?). This poem was written after a discussion about which orange fruit is the juiciest. It’s NOT a euphemism (the poem, or the conversation), honest.

Image source: freedigitalphotos.net

Image source: freedigitalphotos.net

I dream of tangerines

I dream of tangerines
Orange juicy fruit, sticky sweet
Tangerines…
I like the way the word sounds almost edible

I dream of tangerines
And clementines and mandarins
But tangerines are fatter, juicier…
Sweeter
At least they are in my tangerine dreams.

Christmas tree

Dark green plastic
Looks nothing like the real thing
The spaces between leaves are too wide
It feels wrong
It doesn’t smell like Christmas
But
He is mesmorised
“Is it Christmas time now Mummy?”
Slowly, he picks up a red bauble. Places it carefully on the tree
“I do the low ones. You do the high ones, ok?”
He picks up a tiny gold star
“We need a big one”
I show him a giant star covered in too much glitter
His eyes widen “Twinkly!” he says, smiling
Returns to the important work
Of dressing the tree
He steps back to admire his work and I turn on the lights
His eyes light up.

Dressing the Christmas tree

 

Would you, could you..?

Would you wrap me up in a wish you didn’t realise you held
This close?

Could you let your dreams roam free
Walk hand in hand with forgotten ghosts?

Would you break down barriers to get to the other side?

Or would you revert to type
Lay down inside yourself
And hide

Could you let yourself see what you already know, and
Without looking down, could you learn to…

Let Go.

Beautiful

Having a good hair day? Feeling strong, sexy, confident… Beautiful? Great!

This is for you…

Having a bad hair/face/body day? Feeling like you’re not enough…?

You. Are.

Beautiful

Listen*, this is for you…

 Just Be.

Just Be You.

Just Beautiful…

 

*Words by me. Voices are me and Rachael Black. Apologies for the poor sound quality!

Words are not enough | Another legend lost

There are so many words to describe Maya Angelou and yet so few feel like enough. I don’t usually post about people passing but Maya was such a big influence on me that I felt I wanted to say something.

 So, rather than say something inadequate, I’ll let Maya do the talking…

She lives on in me, you and anyone who has even been inspired by her. RIP to THE Phenonemal woman, thank you for your words.