Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

Tag: flower

  • Prose: Cherished – 19/05/21

    Prose: Cherished – 19/05/21

    A special meaning is encompassed by me today. I could sit and weep, allow my day to decay. I could jump up and dance, a public cover-up, a farce, but I’ll do neither of these upon this sun-shining morning in May.

    Instead, I will thread myself together, sewn and stitched, with determination, insistence, for me, repair isn’t a bother. Over time, each thread has painfully entered through, needle to skin, insertion of freshly-wound cotton, much to some’s chagrin. I am whole now, no dangling pieces, after years of floundering, I’m becoming daisies and roses, blooming to see, scented, delicate petals to touch. A figure made human, adorned with hearts and trust.

    This figure’s flowerbed is smaller now, visitors and residents are fewer, but still, in delicate rows, and they’re all admired and admirable, intricate and wonderful, each petal to unfurl, their own histories to tell.

    Within this garden, in this land on the property of a safe house, we are all gathered here today, some mended from brokenness, others in the midst of sad decay. These latter we cannot help but keep company as they slowly bend their heads and weep, today is their time for demise, but in this company, kind and true, they wouldn’t have their exit any other way.

    And from the dying petals, which should be preserved while scattered, by sheets of ornate glass, their colours will join with the earth, create food, life for others. Goodbye is not always despairing when they’ve been cherished in many ways. Goodbye can be a new way of voicing a fresh beginning, from the decay arises freshness, an opportunity for new life to shine and remain.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Nubia Navarro (nubikini) from Pexels

    Previous Post: ‘I Will Not Write About Love’ – 18/05/21

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose Home

  • Poem: Geraniums – 24/02/20

    Poem: Geraniums – 24/02/20

    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

    Return to All Posts

    Home