To all my lovely readers,
I just wanted to let you all know I will be taking a break from my blog for a little while. Thank you for reading my posts. I will return soon. I am unable to completely put my all into my posts lately due to unforeseen events in my life, so I feel it’s best to take some time out. I will miss reading all of your work and keeping up to date with everyone’s posts!
I will see you very soon.
All my love,
Lauren
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Panic mode, the shelves stripped bare, triumphant shoppers walk with their prized packets of eighteen toilet paper rolls, the luxurious purple Quilton brand. We have already rushed from your home, with few moments to spare, the opening time has already occurred, there are barely any essential products there. Hastily, you grab the items from the shelf, long-life, of course, why would we deal with anything else? For we have been encouraged to purchase ahead for two weeks, the panic, the panic ensues, ensures that we here in the supermarket, at this usually sleepy hour. Seven in the morning is now its busiest, when the visitors will arrive, the peak of scanning, the competitive nature rises within shoppers, perhaps all shelves of essential items will be stripped in time. We are even more fearful of handling money, of being within another’s close proximity, we purchase hand sanitiser, believing it will purge the virus from our skin, we wash and wash, but on occasions, the virus will be silently welcomed in. Our systems were not made for this, this is a pandemic, do you hear me? We need to take precautions, self-isolate when required, only leave the house when needed, avoid close quarters with others. And the ideal situation has commenced, the virus is winning at this fact, we are together, yet away from one another, fearful of something which we cannot see but which, if caught, could cause saddening fatalities, need we stay away from all others? The question remains: how will we combat this insidious virus, this society-killing disease? © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay
Sometimes I enjoy being on my own, Meditating on my thoughts, Or lack thereof. The feeling of openness which can be brought forth by Simple introversion, Viewing what is within. While I could be content with such a mode, Often I yearn for the compatibility of others, My close friends, My living champions, Those who were always there to hold my hand During illness, During pain, During loss and strife. The meaningless banter is not so meaningless at all, For through the eyes of an outsider, My bond with others may seem thin, Weak, Something which can underwhelm, But they don’t see beyond the front of our projected image In fact, they see nothing at all, Because what is occurring beneath the surface Is like duck’s feet whirring – From the surface, The effort you cannot tell. Everyone may be busy, And I’ll be bereft with my intent, That understanding I must cope by myself, To allow these hours to pass by, Tick, tock, slowly spent, But when I’m in the glory of the light of my loved ones, We shine, shine, shine, No one is busy anymore, Except with one another, We’ll grow and laugh And shine some more, This is our time. © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. Image by fancycrave1 from Pixabay
I’ve come to a stark white marble gateway where I have the choice, presented with left or right, which path is moral, which path is exploratory, which will help reach a state of divinity? I pause at the crossroads, unsure of which road to take, because the truth of the matter is I’m barely guided I’m doing this on my own, it seems. Each path is covered with a looming arch, veins of tiny grey riddle the white, I discover, and they remind me of varicose veins, little interfering modules that stain the perfection of the set stage. I wonder to myself what would occur if I chose no path at all, would I reach my desired goal on my own? Would I attain that which I seek without the standard paths of known? I decide to stray from what is before me, I have always been known to explore, to test the waters, the rivers so deep, I do not need to follow many others, I’m already here on my own. I instead backtrack, it may look like failure, that I have given up, but the irony here is I’m redoing the procedures, I am here, I am there, I am gone, into the air. It is now my choice where I shall place my feet or spread my wings, seek forth, seek right, seek left, I am but a frugal queen. I shall seek my king and my kind because I know they are waiting for me, I’ll reach them in time, resurrect the past, I’ll no longer become lost, and I’ll traverse until I become wiser than I’ve ever known. Then I will know the true meaning of what I seek, what is it? The answer is within me. © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. All images signed “LMH” are copyrighted 2019-2020 by Lauren M. Hancock Image by Jorge Guillen from Pixabay
The hummingbird buzzes quietly, She is home at last, Without the combative competitive bees Whispering in her ears Deafening her as closer and closer they come Because she is set to feed and sudden aggression Comes over her As she desires the delicious dining within the precious feeder She needs She requires She must collect She must consume And these hissing whispering busy bees Insist on playing in her outside room Where she is meant to work Never abstain But be precise and retrieve Her life is antisocial But she must work around others To achieve that which she yearns for The truth Her feed Her sweetness Dripping beak. © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. Image by ArtTower from Pixabay
I glance at the geraniums, It seems they glance sideways at me. Some are happy, bubbly, cheery, And others, they carry a known disease, Of negativity among the cheer, The mirth, The banter, The geraniums are not completely innocent, No, some were willing to barter. Some have exchanged their good looks for power, The ability to glare and stare at us while we Glance back and forth with horror, At having come upon the enemies of the majority of these beauties, Who have gone through struggles to rise above their Common duties, These beautiful flowers are not all cast in the light Of wonder, Because some made a willing trade, Their morals and appearance have gone under. Why would a flower trade for power? What could a flower possibly do? I do not know, You do not know, Perhaps the mystery here lies in the shrivelled petals And leaves which are dying, Silently begging to be pruned. I suppose the deception coupled with the power that A geranium has traded their beauty for Could be simply this, A rising, A surging, An engulfing whiteness, An ability to make a viewer come completely undone. The geraniums smile and smile away And there are only a few within the bunch which Could ruin our day. © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. Image by S. Hermann & F. Richter from Pixabay
The feeling I get when attending is one of great unease. I have not been here for long, but my heart pitter-patters, fluttering in the breeze. Why am I so nervous? I used to attend and be present many, many times, a feeling of stupendous awakening? I’m unsure of this, though I’ll be brave and allow myself to stay, I must try. What worries me are certain memories, but surely, they will not return, quietness is now overwhelming, there is only me at the helm, for I am the one steering the course of my ship, and if I’m tired, I’ll lend the movements to another, closer to me, perhaps a type of kin, then, he or she, will look after the helm, and allow me to soar, higher than the fear I feel within. There’s nothing to fear when I can hold myself near, hold myself together, or allow the movements of another. I can allow a being to help me be fixed piece by piece, because this feeling of unease will soon no longer be with me. © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. Photo by Eternal Happiness on Pexels.com
Hi all. I just wanted to let you know that I have made some changes to my website. The https://alicewellart.com link will now redirect to a website under my name, https://laurenmhancock.com. You can use both but content will be on laurenmhancock.com.
As you will notice, there have been quite a few visual changes, as well as to the name of the blog, which I am now calling Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose. I have decided to go in this direction because my writing has altered from the older style stories I used to write, to now poetry and prose. As always, all illustrations to the posts will be mine, aside from times where I have decided that a photograph would be better.
Thank you for bearing with me during these changes.
Lots of love,
Lauren
Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose 
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