Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

Tag: hope

  • Poem: Rows of Rosies – 26/07/21

    Poem: Rows of Rosies – 26/07/21

    Rows and rows of rosies,
    we bend and sniff,
    achoo,
    we’ve more to fear these days
    than an ancient dreaded plague or flu,

    we link arms,
    ring-a-rosies,
    we hold each other tight,
    we’re here for all
    through thick and thin,
    through harsh morn’ scratchings
    and eerie dead of night.

    The home becomes a zone
    where no fresh soul shall pass,
    each contagion has already been
    unknowingly passed.

    Families isolate,
    quarantine with hope,
    watching loved ones repair themselves,
    immunity must grow,
    it’s the only option they must know.

    Recovery, or treatment
    when possible,
    required if ease of breath abates,
    this playtime of ring-a-rosies
    has been forgotten as of late,
     
    but still we all link arms,
    hold each other tight,
    spin, focus now, less our prior delight,
    for it is with determination,
    solidarity and fight,
    that we will win these battles,
    calm seeps into our nights.   

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Image by Kate Greenaway in ‘Mother Goose’, sourced from Wikimedia, use under Public Domain

    Previous Post: ‘Perfect Imperfections’ – 24/07/21

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  • Poem: Abundance – 06/07/21

    Poem: Abundance – 06/07/21

    I shall sojourn
    to follow my bliss,
    chase those dreams,
    negativity’s finally amiss,

    feel the breadth of a
    blossoming soul,
    richer than an expansive rose,
    something which I’ve learned,
    which I’ve come to know
    is that Life’s a great adventure
    if you treat it with joy,
    with graciousness,
    with gratitude,
    it is so welcoming,
    clutch it with style.

    I’ll smile,
    spread my wings,
    take flight,
    this path ahead is mine,
    I’ll call and call for nothing,
    for no one,
    for I alone am growing whole.
     
    Wouldn’t you be pleased to know
    that the leaky gaps are plugged,
    closed tightly, sealed shut,
    and now,
    I can fill with abundance,
    filling, filling, overflow.

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

    Previous Post: ‘Please, Stay’ – 06/07/21

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  • Poem: Stagnated Time – 01/05/21

    The minutes seem so long,
    the second-hand drags like
    fingernails in sand and broken glass,
    I’m impatient to know the answer,
    but I’m terrified to even ask.

    Tell me, what point is there
    in waiting,
    in watching the vapour of my breath
    cloud my vision, obscure with fog?
    The truth we will discover yet.
    I refuse to beg or sob.

    Ache not for the present, but recall tremors from the past,
    patiently, patiently, 
    in due course, 
    is it right to ask?

    I shall not flounder in my need, 
    in my desire to know, 
    better still lay the questions down to rest,
    I have no right to request, 
    nor you any obligation to let me know. 

    Would functionality take over
    if the seconds were given a chance
    to catch up with each other, 
    suddenly, a minute seems too fast. 
    The seconds trip and fall on one another, 
    clumsily, then altogether.

    (c) 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Logan Armstrong on Unsplash

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  • Prose Poetry: Illuminate – 19/04/21

    Prose Poetry: Illuminate – 19/04/21

    Sometimes, there’s something magical in the air. You can feel it permeating your skin, your muscles, the tendrils of your hair. That electrifying feeling that courses through your very veins, warming you and making you feel loved, and reassuring you that everything, everything will be okay. 

    There is a time in the future when you will feel this, too. Don’t worry your heart about whether it will come, or if it won’t, when, how, or where, how far away, or soon. There is something amazing out there waiting for you, if you desire to take it by the hand: allow it, her, him, whomever, to walk with you, into the Great Unknown, and begin to slowly and freely breathe again. 

    Allow yourself to not be encumbered by the pains of yesterdays. Lift your head higher, let your heart pound with hope, dispel the dismay. And understand that there is a light at the end of everything dark, if we only allow ourselves to open up. There is a choice to be made, to bring forth illumination and joy, or remain in the shadows, though I know, sometimes, this isn’t a choice. In such cases, let others help and hold you up, take their embraces, their kind words, loving and such, because with support, we can make it through the pain and distress, life is for living, not suffering, and I’d hate for anyone to lose sight of what could begin again. Peace, light, love to you, and in your heart, begin in hope to trust.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Sharon McCutcheon on Unsplash

  • Poem: The Search – 04/02/21

    Poem: The Search – 04/02/21

    Tree-man gathers and smiles in the plains that are his own, 
    shrubs and bushes alongside also grin and rustle, 
    they watch as he explores his land, 
    attends to the fallen leaves as gently as if each were a sacred sign, 
    they are, in fact, because they’re quietly home grown. 

    Each delicate marking, 
    each unique shade of yellow, brown or green makes his
    heart swoon, 
    his mood heady 
    for he is seeking his queen, 
    a tree-lady whom he can share his life with, 
    not just as his own.

    But there are few tree-people in this land, 
    they’re a rarity as such, 
    in fact, he’s only viewed his family, 
    never had the opportunity to reach forth to another tree-person
    to embrace or touch. 

    He’s been searching so long for that leafy being who will 
    meld with his heart, 
    to accept the language of his artful words, 
    his kindly soul, 
    his hopeful spirit and warming eyes crossed with subtle stars.

    His journey has taken him high and low, 
    and deep within, there’s a part of him which knows
    that there may never be that tree-lady waiting out there for him, 
    but he accepts this as potential truth, 
    doesn’t weep, 
    doesn’t sigh, 
    he is strong enough within himself to know that 
    he can carry on happily,
    and perhaps the dreamed-off meeting is secretly nigh. 

    Meeting someone would just make his life all the more complete. 

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. 
    Image drawn by myself, copyright 2021.

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  • Poem: A Timely Smile – 28/01/21

    Poem: A Timely Smile – 28/01/21

    This smile, she is timely,
    she has arrived well and alive,
    with her presence her owner will revive,
    feel stronger,
    amazing,
    and whole.

    There were calls for her demise,
    suffocations of her interior,
    breath caught in her lungs,
    catching at the escape,
    wishing for the air never to be free nor fly,
    but now, a rapid sigh of relief,
    a time of kingly brightness and benevolence
    as a hand reaches out to warm and caress.

    The air no longer is dry, dead,
    nor stale,
    but the validity of her smile is it’s alive
    for all to see:
    we can see those teeth flash bright for miles and miles.

    And the succinct fact is the woman’s happy,
    she doesn’t need to be given this or that to be lively,
    she is creating her life as priority,
    her satisfaction as part of her personality,
    she’s no longer reaching out to all as an anomaly,
    wishing to appeal or appease,
    no, those moments begged for her to leave.

    She wasn’t required,
    she wasn’t necessary,
    but she is enough, enough,
    she calls freely,
    a triumphant self-awareness of her worth and truth,
    there’s no cause for her persistence to be belittled,
    for between those days and now there is
    much mental and physical distance to view.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Vicky Hladynets on Unsplash

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  • Poem: Breaking News – 27/01/21

    Poem: Breaking News – 27/01/21

    The journey is almost over, 
    the pain, the suffering, the ailing, 
    all to be washed away from the nights and the mornings, 

    the bravery is there to be seen, 
    highs and lows, during so much time, 
    she’s been stoic throughout it all, 
    the therapy has not seized her courage, 
    or taken away her positivity,

    she’s been fighting and carrying on
    throughout what has sometimes been a struggle,
    demonstrating her resilience and capabilities. 

    Today’s the second last session, 
    she has strength within, 
    she has power throughout, 

    the flushing of medications promises
    one more attendance
    to be borne with a grin, 

    I am proud of her quiet resolve, 
    and with this illness 
    she has demonstrated the ability to combat the ill emotions, 
    upsets and suffering, 
    her coping strategies long ago set into motion,
    brightness in moving forward and re-focussing.

    She will walk away from this time with her head held high
    knowing she’s combatted this illness as though
    it’s barely stopped her,
    hardly stalled her in her tracks,
    hardly sent her life awry,

    she’s been able to fight through the side effects,
    has kept herself busy,
    has remained hopeful,
    even when she was feeling so poorly and weak,
    she approached it with the hope of a new tomorrow.

    And I know that when she strides away from that seat
    that final time,
    triumphant in heart, body and mind,
    she will feel oh, so fine
    that she’s combatted this
    in the best way she could have handled it,
    my gracious mother of mine.

    We await the opportunity to celebrate this milestone,
    hers and our relief together in due time.

     © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. 
    Photo by Diego PH on Unsplash

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  • Poem: Bright Stars – 07/11/20

    Poem: Bright Stars – 07/11/20

    Bright stars shine in my eyes,
    I soak them in like they’re available to take for all mine,
    to pluck at them and stow away into my hidden spaces,
    into the cracks and tears that have been left by the decisions
    that I thought wouldn’t result in this,
    where time is the only cure.

    I’ve never been here before,
    beneath this sea of sparkle that
    encompasses and revolutionises
    my mind and memories,
    I wonder what to do with them,
    should I be without them all?
    So used to company by my side and now,
    replaced by ghostly air because of my doing,
    truth in truth,
    all in all,
    an undoing.

    At least I have the stars to sparkle and shine for me,
    at least I have their light to guide me,
    perhaps I can shine brighter than them,
    after all,
    they are dying or already dead.

    I still have my glisten. It’s just hidden beneath my layers.
    Photo by Ryan Hutton on Unsplash

    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. 

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  • Poem: Coming Home – 01/10/20

    Poem: Coming Home – 01/10/20

    Coming home,
    returning to that comfort,
    grasping onto something that will make
    her feel some level of homeliness.

    Away for a time,
    in a foreign place,
    alone, mostly,
    far from loved ones.

    Recovering, recovering,
    she’s been so strong thus far,
    we’re so proud of her,
    I wish she’d know this.

    Coming home, shall she return to our arms,
    our welcoming this day?
    An outpouring of comfort,
    of care, concern,
    our desire to attend to all her needs,
    come what may.

    She has provided for us all,
    she has lived her life in willing servitude
    to ensure we have been given the
    best possible upbringing,
    and now is time to return the loving kindness,
    we are always here for you, Mother,
    please know this.

    Beckon and call as much as you please,
    we will be here to listen, give,
    whatever you need,
    if you request hours of rest,
    we’ll allow you that, too,
    even if we want to be close to you.

    To hear your wise words,
    your perspective on the world,
    your advice,
    your experiences,
    your frustrations, fears,
    pains,
    future dreams,

    I am all ears,
    I am here, willing to be,
    here for you,
    listening,
    in whole, not part,
    in all,
    everything.

    Let us roll away the painful headaches,
    the sorrows,
    the calamities within our minds,
    let us deal with the blow upon blow
    because progress is on the horizon,
    future brightness is what we like.

    Allow us to understand that we are on
    this journey together,
    that we will make it through with each other,
    there’s not much to understand further,
    we will fight this battle together.

    Thank you for everything,
    I hope strong Father returns home today
    accompanied by my brave, courageous mother.

    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Irina Iriser on Unsplash

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  • Poem: Paper Cranes and Airplanes – 09/09/20

    Poem: Paper Cranes and Airplanes – 09/09/20

    She sits there with paper at the ready
    wondering what it is that should keep herself busy,
    the beauty and wonder of creating
    a paper crane
    or a slick air-mobile to cut the air
    so precisely.

    The crane calls to her,
    the idea of it makes her heart flutter with hope
    what is about formations in paper that can provide another being
    with the ability to broaden their emotional scope?

    The airplane wants to be made,
    to splice its way through the stars and clouds,
    perhaps lean upon the luminous moon
    not a man in the moon but a plane full of them
    little figures of existence to be
    positively at hand.

    But she chooses the construction of the crane,
    she knows that each fold will lean and paper attend
    strength imbued
    growing
    courageous

    paper dreams to be made for you.

    © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Kevin Lanceplaine on Unsplash

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