Every Tiny Stitch


Creating the canvas with silken thread
Each day with different colours weaving
On whitest linen in smallest stitches
The complexity of life I’m living

Red jelly and custard birthday parties
a childhood spent in lonely play
Crepe paper hats and satin costumes
Kite flying on a windy day

Sunshine yellow of early teen years
Pop idol screaming in the park
Hot pants, boas, and minis and maxis
Cow bells, music, moon walks in the dark

Shocking pink in early womanhood
living dangerously on last tube home
first job jitters, first date delights
while family snaps to monochrome

Rich dark purple of dreams destroyed
Bleeding wounds traced in crimson thread
Tear tracks, pills, and Empty purses
Disillusioned, discarded, life filled with dread

But then the scarlet of surrender
The blush of finding first true love
Warmth of babes, new lives beginning
The tangerine joy of motherhood

Now the lavender skein is needed
As the empty phase begins
How my coloured garden sows those
Wild brown wrinkles on the skin

The final years with wizened fingers
forging murals bittersweet
‘til only the blackest thread remains
the tapestry will be complete


Writing 201, Day 9 – Landscape

Oh my, today’s challenge gave me a fright! The task was to write a ‘Found Poem’ using words from random articles, books, etc, on the theme of Landscape, using Enumeratio (listy stuff).  To be honest I could have spent several days playing with this, but with only an hour or so to spare today, this is what I’ve come up with. A little lacking in Enumeratio, but hey..

Not sure if it makes any sense whatsoever to anyone else, but it kinda works in my head!  What I’ve learnt today is that I’m pants at cutting out and sticking – I’ve made a right old mess 🙂

Nonetheless, I did what I was told, and cut out and stuck (with thanks to The Guardian), but just in case you can’t read it for the excess glue, I’ve typed it out below.

PDP 3How Much Should We Laugh?

Streetwise city
silencing the bagpipes
brings home heroes
with promise of new stars and harmony
They were not scared
rising from the rubble
for there’s no better time to build


No distance between them
they were still alive
ready to kill us
I saw the muzzle flash
fall down buried in
the void the blood
There’s no damn reset button

Writing 201 – Day 5……’When I’m Bored’

I’m a bit late with this, and I apologise for not taking this challenge completely seriously. Friday’s prompt was ‘Fog’ and the poem was to be written in the form of an elegy (longing) using metaphors.  Errmm…this is what I came up with..

When I’m Bored

Through the fog of tedium
My thoughts turn to you
You dusky seductress
Wrapped in silver sheets
Waiting to melt at my lips

I cannot resist your call
Though you lead me
to this fattened state
I’m ready to accept my fate
I’m yours,oh perfect chocolate

The Final Path

cuba cemetry for poem

Slowly, slowly,
advancing with tender steps,
emitting clouds of scarlet
with each tremulous breath,
the golden child
humbly crept

Brazenly her locks tumbled,
shrouding her shoulders
in a champagne veil
and the dusky angels
turned their heads In envy
as even the spiders silk seemed coarse

Heavy shadows blurred
the silvered path she trod,
where startled dandelions
puffed their clocks,
though time stood still
and sunrise never came

In the placid grove
where soft grasses
solemnly bowed,
the lilac air filled
with the songs of souls stirred
by an unfamiliar beat

And as they watched
that unknown child,
her iridescence faded,
turned to pearl translucence
as, with grace, she slid
into their ethereal embrace

Winter of Love

I am brittle and abandoned.
Like gilt leaves shed by the selfish tree.
As you wilfully discarded me.

I am damp and distraught.
Like wind whipping drizzle against cheeks.
As you were callous and cold to me

I am sombre and grey.
Like the sky’s heavy, battleship clouds.
As you so grimly threatened me.

I am winter white.
Like first frost, static and beautiful.
As you were to me.