Lauren M. Hancock poetry and prose
winding worlds, sharpened words, and vibrant art
The world stops, one could hear a pin drop though no one is present to hear its ping. We are all inside, relegated, told to be safe to take care, to avoid each other as much to save ourselves now and in the future. The pin drops and in fact something does hear [...]
I fly off, toward a land of the free, where I can soar with my wingspan so wide not even dragons could watch without envy. Their narrowed eyes and aching hearts would speak of something so paining and green that neither head nor heart could be altered, though to be seen with these beasts would [...]
Searching, seeking, waiting, As though pressed against a boulder by the shore, Awaiting a mere glimpse of a mermaid, Even a speckle of her tail, To prove her reality, that she truly exists. This mermaid shall not, Cannot be a myth. Waiting, Quietly tempted by the rolling water, Gentle yet unique in its miniature [...]
Sometimes I need to realise that the wind simply needs to unwind to leave his breath upon the windowsill and tangle within the trees. The branches and he will create a mischievous dance a mild form of light-hearted sorcery as the magic weaves its language strange capitulations together; they succumb to each other the swooning [...]
Here I float, in this ether of dreamy fluffiness, in this air of pillowy indefiniteness, where I am swimming, arm over arm I transport my body, less than willing from the beginning, where did it start? it’s all so blurry. The billowing surroundings breathe around my form as though they are carefully brushing, [...]
My peasant fairy godmother, so round and delicate and wise, an orb and an orb unto herself, she flies to me through the skies. To provide me assistance, to provide me with hope she waves her hands and magically provides me with her delicate scope of wisdom and inner strength of power and [...]
With lungs as free as the movement of transformed butterfly wings, allow yourselves to soar. Having emerged from the cocoon, as beautiful as the opening scene of a night’s full moon, sing to the world, despite what you might feel, you are worthy of being heard. And if no one appears to be listening, ears [...]
