Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

Tag: heart

  • Poem: Enchanting – 31/08/21

    Poem: Enchanting – 31/08/21

    Visions beam, no visions blurred,
    enchanting be thy presence,
    welcome, my essence yours,
    entitled though the path once
    it might have seemed,
    bewilderment now as far as breath
    can be heaved.

    Pounding, irreverent,
    knocking at my door,
    ask permission?
    I insist you implore,
    wondering yet not at the soft curls
    upon my head,
    cascading down gentle curvatures,
    have I made my tired bed?

    I toss and turn in the night,
    nothing seems right,
    but in the distance I view something glisten,
    where hope forth does spring,
    listen…

    I’m excitable, not for tirades,
    but for what tomorrow may, will, might bring,
    dig deep, I tell myself,
    then a pause,
    complications await,
    none of this can be.
    My spirit, relentless, will still soar,
    regardless of the circumstance,
    I’ll fly with ease of modality, so free,
    consciousness, streams more and more.

    Await, await
    in my clouded dreams,
    visions pure, warmth assured,
    bring this to me,
    a powerful undertaking,
    a pull beneath the surface,
    wanton deliverance?
    No, I possess a different type
    of ethereal substance.  
    Or so it seems…
    a gentle knocking at my door.

    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
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    Previous Post: Vines – 30/09/21
    Previous Post: Rain Dance – 29/08/21

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  • Micropoetry: Vines – 30/09/21

    Micropoetry: Vines – 30/09/21

    Open up your heart,
    the chambers accentuate the echoing
    of you, as a work of art.
    Feel the rhythm, feel the pulse,
    from your head down to your tips of toes,
    meanwhile, strands of wisdom intertwine with visions
    of welcoming loving times
    recollected by a mind full of experiences,
    weaving like thoughtful caressing vines.

    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
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    Previous Post: Rain Dance – 29/08/21
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  • Poem: I Am – 07/07/21

    Poem: I Am – 07/07/21

    I am the whistle in your wheeze,
    the sound that never leaves,
    the breath beneath your stare,
    the salt water evaporated in your hair.

    I am the pleasantries heaved
    when compliments attend to dreams,
    I am that catch in your voice
    when emotional you grow,
    that perceived weakness is your vice,
    the aching wants you feel and know.

    I am that smile within your tunes,
    I am the heart within your song,
    I am the beauty in your madness,
    how amazingly we get along.

    I am the chime in your jingle,
    I am the spring in your step,
    I am the heart in your living,
    you feel so blessed, yes?

    I am here momentarily
    like an uttered groan,
    a yearning state of being
    I know you know,
    I am like the butterfly gracing the very
    tip of your nose,
    I’ll keep you company,
    hold your presence so very, very close.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Sebastian Voortman from Pexels

    Previous Post: ‘Awakening’ – 06/07/21

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  • Poem: First Time – 26/06/21

    Poem: First Time – 26/06/21

    The very first moment
    I leant in for your kiss,
    I’d been waiting most of the morning,
    watching your careful moving lips.

    With bliss abounding,
    I had spoken with abandon,
    so ecstatic I was to be in your presence,

    and seated next to you,
    my heart raced,
    my breath held,
    bated,
    surely you could see,
    feel the rich desperation,
    my need,
    for your touch,
    underscored by your
    vermillion crease.

    You were hesitant,
    for unknown reasons
    I watched your body stiffen,
    unsure it seemed you were,
    to accept excitable desire
    toward you,
    perhaps fearful of such nearness.

    With a quick peck on
    billowy cushions,
    disappointed somewhat,
    I retracted,
    dejected,
    it swims through my innards,
    a scourge,
    fresh disease,
    I could not wipe
    the sadness from
    my shuttered eyelids,
    was ‘playfully shy’
    your process?

    I protest with these lips,
    beseech you to
    explain away your fears,
    attempts to allay mine
    of not being enough,
    of being too eager,
    too excitable,
    too weird,
    is my pressuring too rough,
    am I not the girl you wanted,
    am I not the presence desired,
    if not,
    annihilate this morning,
    embarrassment bleeding,
    as your stuttering excuses start…

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by luizclas on Pexels

    Previous Post: ‘Whispers’ – 24/06/21

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  • Prose: Imagining – 14/05/21

    Prose: Imagining – 14/05/21

    Imagine there was something which could easily read the words of your heart. Your joys, your aching, your frustration, and the spaces you keep for precious, invaluable art. Those masterpieces of memories and experiences which you love to hold, turn them over in hands again and again, mesmerised, decisive, the experiences are able to be re-lived this way fruitfully, truth be told.

    You can inspect these cubes, forms, or spheres, or perhaps for you, they’re nondescript, simple constructs, in your mind they can exist, in an eye’s blink they can then disappear. Almost in a meditative state, overwhelming emotions draw near, enveloping you, reminding you that internally we are all stars. Filled with spark and brightness, our glowing memories can be seen – or at least felt – from afar, and if one extends to another, perhaps both will gain miraculous, shooting energy which never shall mar.

    Who can easily read your heart? Which methods will permit entry into your hidden compacts of art? Will you allow the mirror to open, to unclasp and reveal their reflection with yours, unbroken? Or will your memories remain purely yours, until you grow older, and they slowly grow forgotten?

    Only allow others in when the feeling encompasses your being with the meaning and understanding that your heart wants to be seen. Sharing is loving, until the stark morning, but sometimes we want ourselves to let it be.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Anete Lusina from Pexels

    Previous Post: ‘A Visit’ – 13/05/21

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  • Poem: The Queen Within my Heart – 07/09/20

    Poem: The Queen Within my Heart – 07/09/20

    The resident of my heart exists softly,
    she doesn’t want to alarm or perturb,
    she simply wants to be present,
    there for the aching and the suffering,
    to be able to offer some consoling,
    some comfort
    during times I’m self-annihilating.

    I cannot help it;
    sometimes I allow things to get to me,
    people, events, expectations overwhelm me,
    and this little vision in my chest,
    with fairy wings and conjured sparkles,
    brightened eyes,
    she soothes me,
    strokes my tender skin,
    calms me each day she’s needed.

    She does not ask for anything in return,
    exists on mere air and my appreciation,
    I am ever so thankful to have her around,
    because, without her,
    my soul might feel such internal damnation.

    I am dramatic, I understand,
    but without her there to guide with her gentle hand
    I might feel lost and alone,
    and angered by her apparent desertion
    from my heart’s throne.

    For she is queen within my beating chest,
    she flits and rules quietly,
    humble,
    my fairy queen,
    now here to counsel and guide me,
    for the right choices,
    the right feelings,
    the right emotions,
    her regulations,
    her subtle rulings.

    It is as though she’s visited and is remaining
    only for me,
    because she knows that I must require her
    to remain,
    she is my light,
    she is my sparkle,
    she consoles and aids and accompanies me.

    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Alice Alinari on Unsplash

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  • Micro Poem: Along the Dotted Line – 03/07/20

    Micro Poem: Along the Dotted Line – 03/07/20

    Could you condense yourself
into a single line?
You, every fibre of your being,
exposed, viewable, entwined.
 
Who’s that knocking at the door?
Pounding,
“I’m here”, your intrepid war cry,
single line, single file
your name scrawled with mine.

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. 
Image by Julie Rose from Pixabay

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  • Poem: Home – 04/06/20

    Poem: Home – 04/06/20

    I feel most at home here,
within these welcoming walls,
but a house is only a house
until we make it a home.
 
What makes mine one?
Let me share with you,
what luck I’ve been blessed with,
what good fortune, too.
 
It has nothing to do with
the furnishings,
nothing to do with
material possessions,
 
naught to do with
items which bring comfort,
it has everything to do
with the love within.
 
I live with those
who I am close with,
their kind words,
warming hugs,
our family unit is a world of our own,
consideration and open hearts.
 
Those who listen,
share their wisdom,
I share my happiness,
my joy with them all, 
 
the times when we were
all under strain
is long gone,
why, we’ve practically forgotten that pain.
 
Instead we are together,
in every sense of the word,
living as one,
a stronger family we have become.
 
With my growing maturity,
I can be my best to them,
kind, loving and caring,
when upset or in pain,
I can attend to them.
 
I now listen to their words,
respectful in the home,
our house not just a house,
but somewhere we can rest quietly,
together or alone.
 
I am grateful for this world,
this space,
where I can be myself,
thank you to my family,
for making this my home.

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Image by Harry Strauss from Pixabay

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  • Prose Poetry: Icy Heart – 27/10/19

    Prose Poetry: Icy Heart – 27/10/19

    Your heart, my love, has grown as solid and as cold as a block of impenetrable, unbreakable ice. I can’t imagine you remaining like this for much longer – it’s devastating in its effects, my aching heart, my saddened eyes. Because my heart, my love, is breaking, cracks and fissures quietly appearing, into pieces I become, as you sit there pleased, smiling to yourself because for you, this is punishment, admonishment that I deservedly accumulated with ease.

    But then you smile quickly – you cannot help yourself, that flash of delight that shows that you’re no longer pretending to be a harsh version of yourself, and now I realise that you were simply just playing a little game, toying with my emotions for that brief moment. Seeing how much I adore you as I crumbled before you, until you lovingly uttered my name.

    © 2019 Alice Well Art, Lauren M. Hancock also known as Alice Well. All rights reserved.


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    Illustration inspired by a reference photo:

    Shutterstock image: 146245403, artist: Xanya69

  • Prose Poetry: Daffodil – 20/10/19

    Prose Poetry: Daffodil – 20/10/19

    The daffodil is strangely beautiful in its brightened yellow garb. In his coloured outfit of delight, he makes observers sing and sigh with breathy appreciation and flowing rivers of love.

    He is modest, this daffodil, he does not ask to be seen for what he is not, he is not showy or greedy for eyes, he accepts what is given, where our eyes are cast.

    But we cannot stare at anything other than him, his joyous melody of lightness seemingly singing, singing, through our innate senses of melodious being.

    He also represents awareness, a sign of a reminder, but here he is simply here, present, and we appreciate his wonder. All the while though, there is a knowing that his sincere purpose is to make others show that we understand, we are aware, of his meaning we truly care.

    His beauty can be deceptive, but he is now blossomed, into full bloom, like the brightened message he represents, we can take this flower with us, from hushed room to comforting room.

    This daffodil is magic, and he is perfectly pleased with being part of a message, raising eyes, awareness and acknowledging the brave hearts whom the blossom is trying to help save with his blessings.  

    © 2019 Alice Well Art, Lauren M. Hancock also known as Alice Well. All rights reserved.


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