Lauren M. Hancock poetry and prose
winding worlds, sharpened words, and vibrant art
On the surface of a scarlet lake are dreams and nightmares cast aside, laid to waste. None have the desire to peruse or recollect, the enmity of these experiences, why, no one wants to look back. The moments of the night wander in a shimmer, upon a crystalline surface, like oil mixed with water, [...]
Angels come and angels go but they’re always watching down upon us. They carefully observe, they take care of us, ever present, although distance may be a factor. Their wings caress, though invisible they may be to the naked human eye they are there, and the angels’ hearts for us, beat freely. [...]
When words won’t speak, colours do, vibrant splashes, moody shadows, emotive characters, abstract patterns. When I cannot find the right letters, or when I simply stutter, I bring forth emotional therapy, brilliant shades bleeding with highlights or slices of calming, iridescent colour. Sometimes nothing lyrical comes out, and I’m left with a blank, [...]
The moth is drawn to the flame, curious though tentative he dances, he flits closer, the heat scorches – away, away! Although his wing is singed he cannot cease his wondering, in his mind he feels he must continue to draw closer, nearer, until he’s sizzling in a second, both his wings in devastatingly [...]
“It is decidedly so,” her mother speaks, she smiles with warmth in her tone. A kind welcome is assured, the woman’s feelings strong, heartfelt, well grown. The kingdom has gathered to witness and bless this young babe, her cooing and calling for Mother draw attention and affection her way. While a wild gust of [...]
Autumn leaves fall one by one, excusing themselves from attendance. Like warm emotions they peel away, leaving an unfamiliar, unfeeling circumstance. Soon the branches will be barren, stark, undecorated, alone, with no reminder of spring or summer, when heartfelt words were purred, within another’s arms feelings were grown. How differently a season can [...]
Rivulets of broken seams, the crackling of irritation heaves and gleams, beneath a thin surface a heated secret boils it festers, does she wish to be anything other than what and how her impatient heart can muster? There’s no calm in the desert creek where parched tongues refused to get along the sandpaper-like exterior [...]
