holding on to innocence

It’s the way the bag bounces on her back

as she runs the alley to school.

Late again, but determined today

to stick to all the rules.

I don’t get it right all the time –

if ever. Yet she forgives me with her hand

that reaches out to curl around mine

before she sinks to dreaming land.

It’s the smile she saves to seek me out

when she wins her latest Gold.

It’s the hug she gets, win or lose,

for being so brave and bold.

It’s the trust she has in her big round eyes

that I’ll treasure in my box.

She’s about to grow, to become her own.

For now, she truly rocks.

A poem for day four of NaPoWriMo: love without saying love

Advertisements

the promise of my new-old writing desk

inktuition old writing desk

Leather inlaid, you’re a classy thing:

stole my heart the second I saw you.

Early Victorian, I’m told by the man

who wooed you first, then shone you.

Who knows what charming prose

I’ll produce, posed as Victorian lady:

sitting demurely, fountain pen dipped

into secrets that emerge from maybe.

stars in disguise

The melancholy moon, with a

bite out of its side,

does a smiley for the stars

surrounding.

The constellated night jewels

catch my breath,

lining up for their sightly

performance.

Minor. Major.

Who cares what key

they play their twinkly

chords in.

Their well-placed face,

their bling, their show,

will make the dark more

bearable.

Yet the brightest one

I only have eyes for:

It squeezes my heart’s

accordion.

For Day Two of NaPoWriMo: a poem about stars

what my anxiety doesn’t know

It doesn’t know boundaries.

It doesn’t understand when it’s appropriate

to flush my cheeks and inflame my chest.

It doesn’t know how to hold back

when my thoughts start spiralling

into a whirl of destructive what-ifs.

It doesn’t know it’s devouring me,

and all those around me,

with its catastrophic clauses.

It doesn’t know it’s not in charge

when it rages like a bull

in the china shop of my mind.

Even when the red rag starts fading,

it doesn’t know the exhausted angst

that still rampages my dreams.

For Day One of NaPoWriMo 2015: a poem about negation