Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

Tag: creative writing

  • Poem: The Butterfly – 19/11/20

    Poem: The Butterfly – 19/11/20

    The butterfly, with her wings so wide,
    carries no weight of the world upon her mind.
    She is here for but the blink of a moment,
    her beauty is there, she shows it,
    and within our hearts,
    we observe her growing love for her wandering times. 

    She does not know the shortness of her lifespan,
    maybe she does and does not show it to us,
    the common woman or man,
    she just flits here and there,
    carefree, without concern,
    she’s here, she’s there,
    with such grace and flair,
    love for her beautiful world,
    she careens about without a care.

    For her, things aren’t complicated,
    it’s all about the flight,
    the joy,
    upon the wind, the ride,
    and her amazement at seeing,
    feeling,
    something so freeing upon the horizon.

    She is delicate but so too is she strong,
    understand that first impressions aren’t 
    necessarily wholesome truth,
    within she is flamboyant,
    you dared assumed otherwise?
    You were entirely wrong. 

    She has blessed your world with her presence,
    danced about within your vision,
    brightened your world if but for a moment,
    my darlings,
    remember her,
    her heart and intentions are potent.

    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. 
    Photo by Alfred Schrock on Unsplash

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  • Poem: Spells – (The Last) – 17/11/20

    Poem: Spells – (The Last) – 17/11/20

    My words became spells again,
    my words they wove their magic,
    the images proved so sincere,
    yet tired they became,
    the end:
    so tragic.

    I sewed the moments one by one,
    delved in and out the topics,
    recreated potency handfuls by handfuls,
    the result:
    confusion of moments.

    The truth of the matter is
    perhaps the words were not right,
    misinterpretations outdoors
    flew high into the sky.

    Anomalies present from whatever one might
    want to know,
    lay your head upon that grass,
    rest there gently,
    I’ll watch the subtle growth.

    Time can tell certain things,
    many different things,
    nearby blossoms absorb the moments
    in which they breathe the sounds
    with ease.

    They take on the subtle intricacies,
    borne as silent witnesses,
    voices raised in dire frustration,
    won’t the scents calm them
    along the breeze?

    But will they be subdued,
    relax themselves?
    Unravel the tapestry,
    work it all out?
    I think those others eavesdropping can
    quite obviously tell.

    My words once were magic,
    to others they became spells again,
    I wove them,
    and I weave them,
    and I let others carefully attend to them.

    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. 
    Photo by Jeremy Bishop on Unsplash

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  • Poem: Gasp – 26/10/20

    Poem: Gasp – 26/10/20

    I gasp.
    It wasn’t expected,
    to see this sight today.
    But then, I smile,
    because in a way,
    I have been quietly asked to let go of personal dismay.

    I’ve set my sights on improvement,
    within my life I’m going to change,
    and I’ve already made self-alterations,
    I can view them on the page.

    As they’re read quietly, in my own style,
    I acknowledge what I’ve already done for myself,
    forming new habits takes a while.
    Learning to look after myself,
    my mind, my body,
    I can amplify what they are needing,
    for what they are calling.

    For I try to now listen to them,
    and my spirit,
    to these three, I’ve forged a commitment,
    to care for myself mentally, holistically,
    to do so means in a manner positively
    and wholeheartedly.

    No room for doubt or fear,
    or wondering if there’s enough strength in me to steer,
    I will attend to my life’s direction,
    I will be illuminated in the sunshine,
    and heal and succeed, re-connection,
    heal, mend, and attend,
    I’ve already performed the interventions.

    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Danny Lines on Unsplash

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  • Poem: Sharing – 14/10/20

    Poem: Sharing – 14/10/20

    What can I share with my small world?
    Perhaps kind words, understanding, empathy,
    cherished friendships and love for others,

    listening, being there,
    calming, caring,
    and throughout the process I am
    subtly growing.

    There is the understanding that I am able to
    assist others and not selfishly
    always think of myself,

    the joy in fostering happiness with others,
    perhaps it’s part of being more
    self-aware, and possessing more
    self-knowledge to be positive,
    to be present,
    always there.

    Part of the process of my journey
    in becoming a better human being
    has come with reflection and time,
    considerations of variances of life experiences,
    dark and light.

    There have been many
    positive experiences,
    so too, despairing and sadness,
    but it is with consideration,
    reflection of both negativity and positivity
    that has been,
    that I can truly
    appreciate my path and provide to others
    with my altered, developing perspectives.

    To make their hearts warm,
    to feel appreciated also,
    no longer am I swirling down,
    down, down,
    in the darkness which had engulfed me
    hellishly below,

    now,
    I am brighter, kinder, lighter,
    and I dare say, my path of spiritual growth seems
    more direct and much more calmer.

    As I increase my self-understanding,
    I can encourage joyfulness
    and cheery moments
    with kindhearted words
    to those who are in need,
    and those who too wish to engage in the sharing,
    allow me to share with you the fruits of my self-healing.

    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Faye Cornish on Unsplash

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  • Poem: Facade – 13/10/20

    Poem: Facade – 13/10/20

    There’s the facade that everything’s okay.
    We walk our neighbourhood route,
    acting naturally, smiling as our arms sway.
    But there’s a hidden secret,
    it’s kept close, away from prying eyes,
    the facade we hide behind,
    that nothing is astray or awry within our lives.

    Behind closed doors is suffering,
    but behind the walls so too is steady recovery,
    and within the walls of a bravely beating,
    fighter’s heart drums the strength and courage
    equivalent to many.

    It’s no secret to a small group of others,
    the facts have been divulged and shared,
    the pain, the initial distraught,
    the distress, the load,
    amongst those trusted, those close,

    and we’ve kept the secret quiet from
    the majority of others,
    it’s a will that must be done,
    must be respected,
    like a healing wound, to be carefully covered.

    There is no shame in what is occurring,
    no need to hide behind hands,
    to be embarrassed about anything,
    but there is no need for a public fight,
    it is a battle, yes,
    but to carry the courage within and muster the strength
    to keep repairing is preferable to do so in privacy.

    So, allow us the facade,
    allow us the truth, too,
    allow us to share and hide what that special someone
    is going through,
    because with time,
    they’ll repair, great and strong,
    and rise, and rise with wings of triumph,
    back to the stead of life where they belong.

    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Paola Aguilar on Unsplash

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  • Poem: You Did The Saving – 12/10/20

    Poem: You Did The Saving – 12/10/20

    Be unique, yourself,
    never try to fit in for the sake of being
    like everyone else,
    embrace that love and care you now have
    for yourself within,
    it’s hard earned –
    I know this is truth,
    all those years struggling
    to be more than you believed you could be,
    listening to that catastrophic,
    negative, self-talking din
    eating your mind through and through,
    always believing there was nothing
    you could do.

    Now, I can see it in your eyes,
    you’re so much stronger,
    there’s no fear within,
    you’re living for the here and now,
    and seriously, for so much longer,
    you have faith in your spirit and soul,
    and know that you are amazing,
    you are delightful,
    you are wondrous and strong,
    and that, my friend,
    is worth forever saving,
    these melodious tunes in your mind and heart,
    they will always keep you company,
    as long as you know that you’re unique,
    and know that you did the saving.

    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Sharon McCutcheon on Unsplash

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  • Poem: Gentle Flower Petal – 11/10/20

    Poem: Gentle Flower Petal – 11/10/20

    Gentle flower petal,
    how beautifully you twirl,
    within the lake
    amidst my reflection
    that stares back,
    showing something that’s
    strangely unlike me,
    not precisely the same,
    but still heart strings are tugged,
    emotions swirl.

    Pink petal, pink petal,
    how fragrant you must
    have been
    before you were immersed in this
    seemingly picture-perfect scene.

    And within this not-so-mirror image
    which stares and stares right back,
    I wonder to myself,
    what is lacking?
    And when will it come back
    to my hands?

    Perfect petal, you swim
    as though you’re gently
    treading water,
    peacefully bobbing above
    the waterline,
    no flow to drag you under.

    And as you enter my reflection
    how you feel immersed
    in the warmth that engulfs you,
    so precious in this land you are.

    You’re in uncharted territory,
    you’re unknowing of the world in
    which you’re floating,
    even I cannot fathom my
    true reflection
    because I do not know
    every turn,
    every nook and cranny’s exploration.

    But petals can get lost
    down these winding paths,
    there’s blockages,
    scar tissue in the grooves
    from life’s aftermath

    but gently, Petal, you will float,
    over and away,
    only to return to explore again
    another day.

    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

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  • Poem: Tendrils – 10/10/20

    Poem: Tendrils – 10/10/20

    In winding tendrils of blonde and brunette,
    we wrap ourselves
    and smile as we get
    the feeling of warmth,
    the feeling of comfort,
    the fortifications of hearts
    well meant.

    The curls which cascade
    upon our backs,
    the heaviness and bounciness
    of waves heaven-sent,
    angelic are we,
    understanding to be,
    our knowing,
    our feelings,
    no reservations to see.

    We shake the tendrils,
    we loosen our concerns,
    we live, we accept,
    we delve into worldliness,
    we learn,

    following the advice of
    those possessing a higher power,
    being grateful for
    what’s enclosing,
    encapsulating ourselves,
    our closeness,
    our solidarity,
    strength with others.

    So, embrace the freedom
    of these cascading curls,
    watch them shimmer
    and shine,
    glimmer as we twirl,

    we’re not meant for discomfort;
    reflect, shine –
    that dulled away pain?

    Twirling curls around out pointer fingers,
    some might mistake us as vain.

    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Angelo Pantazis on Unsplash

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  • Poem: Silver Lining – 09/10/20

    Poem: Silver Lining – 09/10/20

    There’s always an opportunity,
    a silver lining,
    the chance to advance,
    or gain at developing,

    the admirable qualities
    held within,
    a spark
    or a prism,
    beautiful rainbow rays
    can be seen.

    Even when circumstances
    appear dismal,
    tough, rough,
    and you’re
    asking yourself
    “Am I even enough?”

    Enough for what?
    Enough for whom?
    You, darling,
    sparkle,
    you light up the room.

    You can extract that
    hidden layer within,
    that shining silver
    how it glimmers
    for you,
    not her, not them,
    nor him,

    no, this opportunity,
    this journey is yours
    and yours alone,
    wrap yourself protectively
    as though it is your gown.

    Enclosed you are,
    but radiating opportunity,
    the beauty in the feeling,
    the beauty in the growing.

    And what’s more apt
    than shining and reflecting this
    back to yourself?
    You’re a powerhouse of strength,
    don’t let anyone tell you
    anything else.

    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Hian Oliveira on Unsplash

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  • Poem: Hoarder – 08/10/20

    Poem: Hoarder – 08/10/20

    He hoards not objects,
    not physical implements
    but emotions,
    he caresses them,
    they express their feelings
    heard and meant.

    He greedily
    takes these from others,
    swipe, snatch, grab,
    one hand carries the contents of
    another’s heavy heart,
    another carries pain and loathing
    in the other hand
    which seems it shan’t ever depart.

    Into a precious round
    glass bowl he places
    extracted stolen feelings
    watching them swirl;
    it gives him a mildly pleased feeling

    as though he’s appeased
    his internal sufferings
    by borrowing –
    that’s what he calls it –
    emotions which he will supervise
    until the morning.

    Because he only needs
    access to these
    for a night and a day,
    it is his means of survival,
    his nutritional content,
    shall we say?

    He feeds off other’s expressions
    because truly, he cannot
    forgive nor accept his own transgressions.

    He needs to heal himself
    with the emotions of others
    as though patchwork sewn,
    slapped on,
    to disguise the
    holes within his cloudy aura.

    He is tainted by prior actions,
    and he repairs himself
    temporarily with that
    which is stolen,
    it’s enough to please him
    until the coming of morning.

    And then he will
    hunt and hoard again,
    applying that to whichever part of himself
    is sadly and ostensibly broken.

    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Joseph Frank on Unsplash

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