Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose
Where I can feel at home…
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? [...]
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.
I am the whistle in your wheeze, the charmed 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. [...]
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, [...]
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 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 [...]
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. [...]
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 https://youtu.be/fyzGXV7NX7Y [...]
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 [...]
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 [...]
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, [...]
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