Healing has a language, I whisper softly, airily it knows, of the simplicity and the duality of wondrous beauty, poetry and prose, the writers and the poets swing each way in kind, whimsical deciduous trees sway our way, whispering in turn, and slightly, just slightly out of time.
I will be the boisterous me I will grin and bear the dreams I will heal and steal that light the sun of the Son of the Sun I will rise when the prisms sparkle rainbow sheens I will be fortuitous and reach for desired dreams I will call and call for items like sticky pearls because they satiate my need for nourishment be and end all.
even when I’ve not everything I need all aroundI have all I need when I’m herethe bare minimum does not contribute to any sense of gloomnor quaint snipey conversations within the roommy face doesn’t grow tired or longbecause I am here and nowand by my side is… you.I know you’re tired of the same old [...]
Today I have been published on Sad Girls Club with my piece 'Resonating Flautando'. Thank you so much to Sarah and the rest of the editorial team for this honour. Please find the beginning of my poem below and click to continue reading at their website. My work can also be found at @laurenm.hancock on [...]
Brother and SisterThe brothers come closerthey materialise into viewexpecting the expectant dame to cry ‘adieu adieu’but she will not falllike a tree in the quiet woods she will not be felled,not even by a dark witch doctor withmany alibis to tell.he holds the keys,swings with her melodies,he rhymes and rhymes,in unison in style,like youngest and [...]