Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

Tag: illustration

  • Story example: Billy the Cheeriest Rainbow Whale – 16/07/19

    Story example: Billy the Cheeriest Rainbow Whale – 16/07/19

    Billy the Cheeriest Rainbow Whale’s life was grand.

    By Alice Well (LMH) (c)

    Billy the Cheeriest Rainbow Whale was happy, joyous as could be. He loved to smile from awakening, through the day, to the evenings, even during his breakfast, lunch and tea! He had much to be satisfied and grateful for: a wealthy relaxed life, a happy contented wife, but most of all his rainbow colouring pleased him so much that with each shimmer and sparkle he felt unique and wanted to view more. 

    They were the colours that flecked in his eyes, the abounding beauty that brightened his mood and caused a loving sigh, for wherever the rainbow would be, Billy would be most happy. He felt electrified each moment, knowing that during any ill mood a glance at his rubbery bright blubber would solve it. 

    Billy was the only rainbow coloured whale among his pod of whales, the only whale who could light the darkness without a chance to fail. He lit the way for so many wayward young male and female whales, when he redirected their poor life choices by reflecting their disabling inner lights by shining his onto theirs, assistance to rectify themselves. 

    He was a leader of sorts in the pod, without it being made official, yet one day his role here was taken down due to a useless past principle. He had performed some shameless tasks in his former life, one such an eating of pearls and clams that were others though he’d claimed them loudly as “MINE!!!” It was a secret occurrence that he was embarrassed to reveal to anyone, but a nasty such and such from his past revealed it to everyone, and thrown from grace was Billy, and now outcast from the pod, utterly saddened and alone was he.

    His wife stood by his side but the rest of the crew were beyond forgiving this Billy and chose to side with the such and such.

    So off Billy and his wife went, in search of more pleasant waters, where his efforts at reschooling the wayward youth would be appreciated, and his past neither revealed again, nor pondered. 

    In life one must preach and teach forgiveness and practice it with zeal, while others may have lived or been living with mistakes, of their current lives these mistakes should no longer be judged or frowned upon if they are living with positivity, humility and good will. If the lessons learned match the lessons which have been taught then move from the past will he or she, acceptance and self understanding and forgiveness is of most import, it is a personal locket and key. 

    By Alice Well (LMH)

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

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  • Story example: Amelia and her Tapestry of Colours – 16/07/19

    Story example: Amelia and her Tapestry of Colours – 16/07/19

    Amelia the Ballet Dancer and her tapestry of colours.

    By Alice Well (LMH)  (c)

    A tapestry of colours was what the sky had to offer, a melded, malleable weaving of hues and subtly formed pictures. A glorious awakening to one’s day, the views of the heavens excited the dancer in every way. 

    Amelia the Ballet Dancer lived and breathed colours. She was enlivened by their presence that assured her. They caused her heart and head to bounce and flounce and buzz, her feet to prance and leap, higher and higher just because! 

    The reason was that while she lived for dance, she lived for colours too, for she was secretly an artist, although she did not share this, even with friends who were of her very best. The reason was she was frightened of judgment and failure, instead she rose for the dawn and with paintbrushes performed her calling in nature.

    One fine morning when the sky was ‘pickadilly’ – her name for a mixture of red, pink and blue in the far off hills that were so pretty –  her eyes and careful ears stumbled upon a quiet watchful kookaburra, looking wryly over at her. She giggled herself, for these birds were meant to cackle manically, laugh, laugh, laugh, and instead he sat noiselessly, beady eyes seemingly observing enough.

    “Why, come and dance, come fly with me!” Amelia implored, “Visit the skies with me!” And thrust her hands towards them she did, throwing her head back and cackling with glee, now Mr. Kookaburra, perplexed initially, sung his own sweet laughter in a beautiful major key. 

    Now Amelia’s morning painting features a new character, not just her lovely coloured tapestry of the skies, a new knowing clever character, a wondrous bird to ponder. And ponder and appreciate and amazed and wowed were her friends upon revealing her first public painting to them, there was no judgement, her fears were unwarranted, she was actually appreciated and lauded for being quite talented.

    So Amelia openly lives two lives now, one of dance, and the other of artistic painterly creations, by day she leaps and pirouettes, and by night and dawn she details the world’s creations. 

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

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  • Story example: Stacy the Conjurer – 15/07/19

    Story example: Stacy the Conjurer – 15/07/19

    By Alice Well (LMH) (c)

    Stacy, the Conjurer possessed powerful sorcery skills within herself. These she had gleaned from her mother, Sandra the Grand Master, her spells she’d share while a baby Stacy would sleep upon the bunk bed’s fashioned bed shelf. She learned how to conjure a baby mouse from a little frog, she knew how to teach it to hop, skip, and yelp a mouse song. She could alter water into honey and oats, and a greedy Stacy loved this spell for herself. She knew how to transmit thoughts to the mind of another, this particular spell she kept from the prying eyes of others.

    As she grew into a toddler, then a little munchkin youngster, the spells became more convoluted, and much more complex. She studied hard and true until she knew, a spell of an ultimate test. While she was at the skill level of allowing another to fly, her final, ultimately skilled spell was to create a purple aura of immortality, with this she would never, ever die. Only she knew this spell, she had crafted it well, and with a saddened knowledge she understood it could only be known by herself.

    She watched generations of families begin, build, grow, multiply, the older generations becoming elderly, then with tears in her eyes she watched them die, and while Stacey remained at the age she had gained the aura, the town was growing suspicious for she did not appear to grow older.

    The townspeople cried, “What is this sorcery? Are you a sorceress?” At the stake a mound of oak trees burned brightly, hungrily awaiting a demoness. For that was how they viewed sorcery: evil, wanton spirits, filled with blackened misery. But Stacey was nothing but the opposite, she was loving light herself, and in the moment of the townspeople’s rage she shed the cloak of immortality from herself.

    Without it she grew older rather quickly, time had caught its way up to her, and in three short years she passed away from the world so quietly, so gently, with her loving kitten-daughter Pearl curled in her arms. 

    By Alice Well (LMH) 

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

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  • Story example: A Marriage of Questionable Convenience (Grey lead sketch) – 15/07/19

    Story example: A Marriage of Questionable Convenience (Grey lead sketch) – 15/07/19

    By Alice Well (LMH) (c)

    It was a marriage of questionable convenience, the woman promised to her blender, preloaded with the goodness of a whole carrot, at the cessation of their nuptials, he knew where to send her. 

    The greengrocer held his palm across his sweaty face, when he saw this woman grabbing every piece of fruit and veggie in his store, everything was snatched away from their ordered place. Frantically she grabbed, left, right and centre, even one, almost unseen squashed black stinking banana.

    “He can blend real good, he can blend reaaaaalll nice,” was her working motto and mantra. Why did she marry a blender? This is a peculiar story I have to tell you. 

    This women had an overt obsession with health, and an unhealthy obsession with maintaining her weight herself. Often she’d go on juice fasts, the longest had been twenty days, with no solids, only liquified fruit and vege, she would cleanse her unhealthy days away. 

    She was also obsessed with gym, and it was here she met her true love, the Blender formally known simply as Gin, a singular word. He had once had a lover named Tonic, and each lazy Sunday they would blend themselves, intertwine and smile, downing alcoholic beverage upon beverage,  their love was known to last for many a while. 

    But Blender longed for someone far healthier, someone who would take care of themselves not only his heart and beats to drowsily, dreamily blur. He desired someone proactive in their health and themselves and suddenly he stumbled upon her, at the squat racks, wiping away sweat from herself.

    She shyly glanced upward, their eyes met in a burning moment, “Hi, I’m Blender, nice to meet ya,” and he offered his hand to be shaken while he continued to speak. His gym knowledge and fruitarian lifestyle understanding was impressive to this woman, soon to be his bride to be, they were fierce together, electric, their words a melded symphony from heaven.

    Over time, during their marriage, Blender began to wonder at the state of mind his wife lived in, he really began to ponder. Did she need help with her suspected issues, someone professional to talk to at least? But no, at this suggestion she would not bend, all she’d do was blend, blend, blend. 

    But as she became more comfortable in her relationship and circumstances, she began to put on a little more weight and use the gym facility less, and now she found out she was with child, what a glorious day, a future human-appliance child, weren’t they so blessed! How she wept when Cucie arrived, named after her favourite veg to blend, her life was now on track: love, health, family, personal wealth. There was no need to be tormented by inner demons anymore.

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

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  • Story example: Television Rabbit – 14/07/19

    Story example: Television Rabbit – 14/07/19

    (c) By Alice Well (LMH) 

    Television Rabbit was in demand all over town. Fuzzy television screens he could fix in a flash, for this task he held the undefeated title and crown. All he’d do was hop hop HOP atop the faulty appliance, and alter the angle of his electronic ears, for a correct signal or signals, to analogically find them. 

    One fine day he was strutting about town, soaking in the glory of his knowledge that wherever he was, success could be found, then suddenly, slowly, he felt a slight droooooop. 

    In fear he grabbed his ‘bunny ear’ and found it had gone from rigid to lacklustre, weak and limp like a kinaesthetically warped and unattractive spoon. 

    “By George, what will I do?” he frantically thought to himself. All traces of bold arrogance now aborted, he was paining now, within himself. How could he perform his job tasks with expertise and ease?? Now both ears were drooping and bent, was he the only one who would truly care that they almost reached his knees?

    For now, his competitor, Panda the Tuner, would likely take over all of his future clients, and saddening though it was, perhaps Television Rabbit’s working days had been had, now it was his time to experience the television’s fuzz of his own faulty appliance that he had. 

    These days he is quieter, much less bravado has he, he walks slowly among the town peoples, wistfully dreaming of analogue TVs. If only he could fix, go back to his hey day, but the truth of the matter is there was no need for him nor Panda, for digital TV was now the way.

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

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  • Story example: Sorrow the Bulldog – 14/07/19

    Story example: Sorrow the Bulldog – 14/07/19

    Sorrow always hoped for more…

    (c) By Alice Well (LMH)

    Sorrow the Bulldog was always hopeful for more. More treats, more pats, more walks around the park, more trips to the pet store, “More for me!” she always thought. The pet store was her favourite for it held so many things, so many items, foods, treats, even collars that were bright and bling bling. 

    Sometimes her owner didn’t have the time to play, or take her out on a particularly boring and rainy day, for he had work of his own to perform, Sorrow was made to wait, and she didn’t want to accept any other terms than ‘now’, let alone ‘soon’. 

    So she’d plonk herself before her owner, glancing up then deeply into his eyes, her permeating sorrow more than visible, watery worlds swimming in her eyes. She had been cooped up for the past three days, surely it was time, that this was the day, for an outing so sweet, perhaps a new treat?? Even browsing would suffice, it would lift her from her grumbling mood, but wait, wait, made to wait, it made her stomach nervously churn, caused her to feel unwell.

    Then her owner gathered his documents in a pile, arranged neatly, in a punctual style, and rushing forth emotions of joy from Sorrow, the joy did fly, they were set to go out, patience had paid off!

    That afternoon Sorrow was sporting a new pink collar, fitted with fifty seven diamantés, she was the height of fashion, worthy of a pet magazine cover, and the sorrow had somewhat dissipated, at least for the day, grumbling and sadness blown clean away.

    by Alice Well (LMH) (c)

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

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  • Story example: Flat the Cat – 13/07/19

    Story example: Flat the Cat – 13/07/19

    (c) by Alice Well (LMH)

    Flat the Cat was exactly that, despite sporting a large jovial bow and a head of tight curls as a feline hat. She occupied a large surface area, and when she looked at how much, she became further dismayed and would begin to shudder. For Flat was self conscious, though she need not be, she used to be young, light, carefree and much more sprightly. But the irony was this, to her kittens she used to preach, it is what is on the inside that counts, do not listen when others try to bully or negatively ‘teach’.

    For the bullies had often caused her kittens to feel down and she always wanted their moods bubbly, or at least somewhat round, a curved pleasant shape if one were to describe a mood, a bubble of sorts, rainbow coloured in hue!

    Yet here Flat was, moaning and groaning about her size, of her apparent unworthy appearance, why, she should take the negatives thoughts away, push them from her stride! For living with sadness was terribly rough, she needed a cheering up of sorts, something wonderful enough.

    So she invited her friend over, she was skilled with her paws, she manipulated and melded Flat’s hair into cascading ribbons and curls. And as Flat stared at the final project, her reflection before her very eyes, with surprise she spotted the sparkle and gleam that she thought never would be viewed or experienced again, now she made a pact and would decide. To be happy and grateful for her life, to not become self conscious of things that life had thrown in her path, in the way of her life’s ride. 

    She was perfect as she was, an exterior and interior so beautiful had she, she flipped her curls with dramatic flair and chuckled into the air sounding and feeling so pleased. 

    By Alice Well (LMH) 

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

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  • Story example: Wormy the Poltergeist – 13/07/19

    Story example: Wormy the Poltergeist – 13/07/19

    Wormy was such a happy little poltergeist.

    (c) by Alice Well (LMH)

    Wormy the Poltergeist was such a joyous being. All day long he’d smile, sing, and jive away. He was from the family known as the Electrodes, they habituated down a path known as Lane Down Cove. 

    Here there were many from their clan, brothers, sisters, cousins, women, children, man, and they coexisted in dutiful dignity, capturing their own delightful pleasures, from simply communicating joyously and politely with one another. 

    The Moon, with his forlorn sidekick star, liked to look down upon the Electrodes, grinning from afar. How happy was he that this large family could live without turmoil or disaster, their thoughts, movements and words communicated so freely, slowly, rapidly, faster.

    Then one day, disaster struck! An enormous worm, squirmed her way into Lane Down Cove to learn, to discover, to find for herself, the most tastiest of worm poltergeists, he or she would be her new satiated host. 

    Upon selecting the liveliest, unfortunately it was poor Poltergeist, the enormous worm set to eat him for her tea. And struggle this way and struggle at that, Poltergeist wormed his way away, this way and that!

    But he could not escape, he was too weak compared to she, the devilish worm who was set for dinner, the evil monstrosity! Then calling out could be heard, screams perpetuating fear, knowledge Poltergeist must be saved, his brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, cousins rolled in to save the day. 

    The enormous worm was regretful, but there was no time for that, in the flip of a coin, a lighting of the stove, the worm became dinner herself, how ironic was that.

    By Alice Well (LMH) 

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

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  • Story example: Edward the Displaced Penguin – 13/07/19

    Story example: Edward the Displaced Penguin – 13/07/19

    Edward wasn’t certain exactly where he was meant to be…

    (c) by Alice Well (LMH)

    Edward was a sleepy penguin, he liked to snooze all day. Hours passed and hours lapsed, he’d nap to while away his days. One day he selected a new favourite glacier, to curl upon and rest his weary eyes, and wouldn’t you know it, by the arrival of sunset, he was deep in his REM cycle, his dreams already beginning to fly. 

    He dreamed he was in motion, in the deep freezing ocean, floundering to and fro, but not a struggle, no, of course not, no, no, for Edward wasn’t a terrible swimmer at all! 

    Then a sudden jolt, in fright Edward opened his eyes, taken aback by the glaring sun, why, he was beneath a shading tree, in the middle of what appeared December’s sticky breeze, from a glacier he had unknowingly travelled to Australia!!!

    He tried to acclimatise, but all Edward could do was feverishly sweat, a penguin such as himself of this country was never meant, to be in such a warm, sweltering stink, how to get home, he tried to ponder, then heavily think, how could he return safely to his glacier with its calming icy drink? 

    But that glacier had ceased to exist, it was called climate change, of the Earth it was like its disease, and the best Edward could do, would be to become comfortable on the land, at least he was the only penguin he would set his foot upon sand. 

    And that is what occurs, when the world is uncared for, animals become displaced, and most humans avoid action and simply spout lies and conjecture. 

    We could all learn from George, and his saddening tale, take care of the world or risk unwanted consequences, our lives and planet are at risk, and of saving the globe and ourselves we cannot fail.

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

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