love – Page 5 – Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

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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February 4, 2021

Poem: And the Fairy Prince of Summer – 14/12/20

The prince of Summer,
he flits into her life,
carving a journey,
nullifying strife.

He is mischievous,
clever, kind, and smart,
and knows the pathway into many hearts.

Will his visitation be pure,
will it last long, will her heart be mine?
he calls to nobody in particular,
above a wondrous sun,
her sun rays a glinting sign.

He wants to be present,
he wants to brighten her eyes,
he wants to be held in esteem
and watch her self-confidence flower.

She is more than enough and so is he,
the prince of Summer, flits with his wings,
taking her on the ride of her life,
this fairy and her will become,
something special,
at least for the moment,
the days and weeks have never felt so well-strung.

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Photo by Rhett Wesley on Unsplash

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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: Effervescent Eyes – 22/09/20

We’re walking through the streets,
hand in hand we stop to take a sip of our drinks,
smiling,
laughing,
we have so much to share,
so much happiness to spread,
we’re like deviants of the light,
spreading joy with all our might.

Trailing behind are the remnants of ill feeling,
we’d cast them aside long before,
the lingering feeling of discontentment is still present,
but we’re forgetting,
our argument, we are carefully clearing.

Our souls bond with sparks,
like the melding of metal to metal,
and wood to fire we catch the heat of our
loving concern and care,

we are a rich source of oxygen-thieving and warmth,
positive feelings,
we will always have a link, a tie,
no matter the circumstances,
no matter whether we pull apart because
one or the other needs some form of personal healing.

Our sodas are light and sparkling
just like our eyes,
effervescent like the youth still in our maturing tides,
as we grow together, we learn from each other,
friendship, strength, a bond
that may not always be stable
but still retains the strength
like reinforced walls,
and we sip and sip,
laughing to ourselves.

Onward, onward,
homeward bound.

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Photo by ian dooley on Unsplash

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September 22, 2020

Poem: Beautiful Tragedy – 18/09/20

Our love was a beautiful tragedy,
we flourished from the taste
of its existence,
the way we reacted and acted was
like that of a giggling pair of youths.

But we lacked maturity,
good times could not only be the
ones had,
falling into his eyes,
his hurt,
what did it truly mean?

Listening to and sharing tales,
the mutual opening up of
old wounds,
and while information was privileged,
I sometimes felt ill-equipped
to properly advise or comment.

The tragedy behind our
wall of defensiveness against the world,
our fortress of affection
which was mean to enclose,
protect,
preserve our magic,
only to be seen, admired, and envied
at certain times by others
when we decided to be on display,

the tragedy was that our perfect little bubble
was our downfall,
and a lacking of self-understanding
on part of one or both –
perhaps specifically one,
perhaps it was me.

The absence of self-awareness,
a reasoning and knowledge
of what was required,
what was necessary for the
growth of the heart
could cause a cacophony,
reverberations to be felt and heard
for many an eve.

Now truly seems the time to heal,
I must attempt this;
we must try our best to repair,
cannot have one or the other disappear,
a desire rise to vanish into thin air.

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Photo by Morgan Sessions on Unsplash

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September 18, 2020

Poem: Eclipsed – 30/08/20

You eclipsed yourself onto my heart,
etched yourself amongst Sun and stars,
a silhouette of burnished red and brown,
a luminescent glow of you all around.
 
Your pattern, your shape,
my mind recalls,
the beauty of your face,
your expression,
I’m in thrall,
and I remember the smiles we shared,
so many days and nights together,
I am basking in the memory of your glow,
ghostly light upon me thrown,
alabaster shine upon us both.
 
Hand in hand,
you took me into your view,
fingertips laced together,
we shone, reflections of youth,
and together we created an energy unseen
by the lower land,
eclipsing my heart as you
tightly grasped my hand.
 
What will happen, dear,
when we must part?
The irreconcilable moment when
hand leaves hand,
and hearts extract entwined valves
from each other,
for one must depart.
 
I know this time will come and to it,
I revolt, as I say,
I wish I could stay in your presence,
please don’t desert me,
please remain.
 
I cannot do this on my own,
I imagine myself sadly call,
I’ll gaze into your light,
continue to further fall, 
fall further, and fall into the night.

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Photo by JOSHUA COLEMAN on Unsplash

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Poem: Learning to Become Softer Again – 19/08/20

We’ve settled into a pattern of “comfortable”,
where we rest each day and call this perpetual state Home.
Where the isolation has become the norm,
we lay our weary heads down.
 
Our sleeping patterns are all askew,
but what does it matter,
we’ve all the time in the world to correct it,
is this not true?
 
We are insular,
we are a family unit,
through isolation
we have become closer, trust this,
 
and we are wrapped with this feeling of
personal warmth which comes from knowing
that through these times we will make it through.
 
The house has become more filled with love,
more of a home,
we spend time together
with less bickering,
less time spent alone,
it’s as if we have been purposefully drawn together again
for a specific reason,
a chiffon string bag encasing certain things from others who 
need not be privy to them.
 
And we are left here upon couches of two,
hearts further conjoining,
melding through and through,
we are learning to love more again,
we are learning to be softer again,
to care for each other
wholeheartedly again.

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Photo by Tim Mossholder on Unsplash

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Poem: Lovesick – 30/07/20

Lovesick…
he yearns for you,
he apparently cannot live without you.
 
Darling, can’t you tell,
won’t you comprehend,
he much he needs you?
This is not a truth which can be bent.
 
But, my sweetheart,
why does he need you?
Where is he calling from –
low, high, the hay,
but my precious, won’t you see,
that his neediness for you
reaches both night’s lapping shore 
and the brightness of your day.
 
But, of course, if he possesses this need for you,
every single moment, of every night and day,
perhaps this makes his need genuine,
and truthful,
and right,
is this not a possibility,
aren’t you swayed?
 
Do you understand that this man,
he needs you more than anything in his world?
Timely circumstances, truth be told,
your heart, extracted,
threaded,
hurled.
 
Your organ now,
he dangles it from a string,
and swings it round and around,
because, really,
he wants this game to be seen,
to show he holds concern for holding you,
whatever will these antics result in,
whatever shall they do?
 
He does not bother to extract his own heart,
to meld with the string of yours,
like a yo-yo you’re toyed with,
a sign of a desperate need,
he just wants the amusement
of love, and life, and his validity to be seen.
 
He needs you, darling,
why can you not see?
Why can't you see what he’s doing to you?
I suggest you snatch your heart from him
and willingly set yourself free.

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Photo by Magdaline Nicole from Pexels

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Poem: Projection – 20/07/20

You say it’s not right,
that you’ve left an untidy impression,
you didn’t need to leave that lingering taste upon her lips,
here is your apprehension. 

You say you've projected yourself far more than
you desire yourself to be viewed
but how to disentangle yourself
from this resultant unhealthy view?
Would you allow yourself the moment to succumb and settle
rather than unnecessarily stew?

Her expectations will never match mine,
but her eyes, those glistening orbs,
widened with innocence,
underlined by a smile,
she does not know what she truly wants,
who or what she deserves,
darling, you’re far too much for her,
you’ve a manic type of verve;
though she doesn’t possess any true inkling,
she doesn’t understand this is who you are.

Heed not your aching, pounding heart
and worrisome, concerned thoughts,
how you weren’t worthy of her,
how you blew this opportunity,
don’t allow this commentary to flow through you, 
your mental calamity, 
this negativity.

You are golden,
you are sunshine, 
and to me, you are sharp panic 
bottled with the fizz of determination 
which shall not pale in comparison to any 
falsified form of freedom of expression.

You are sweet annihilation mixed with the 
richest spice I’ve ever known,
project unto me:
make my world your second home.

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Photo by Jonathan Borba from Pexels

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Poem: A Magic Trick – 11/07/20

Magic trick,
you’re a magic trick,
you make my face brighten, warm, and shine,
 
Magic trick,
you're a magic trick,
you cause me endless joy,
wry head shakes, claps, and smiles.
 
Like a magic trick,
you suddenly appeared in my life,
I may have chased down your existence
but truly, you were worth it,
 
Because, Magic Trick,
my Magic Trick,
you brighten each facet of my life.
 
I am your diamond,
or so you say,
with my playfully haughty self-esteem,
I shouldn’t believe those words any day,
 
but maybe I was a different gem under pressure
from millions of years ago
whom you have rescued from this
occasionally cruel and cold-hearted world.
 
I sparkle, you mesmerise,
we each have our power,
our ability to impress without words,
 
my dearest, you bring comfort
when I won’t express what’s ailing me,
and those other magic tricks who were
intent upon disappearing,

I’m so glad they vanished,
let me sparkle and shine
because I am the one who you cherish.
 
Place your cloak over both of us
and we’ll travel away from this world,
into a land of anonymity and 
soft, mesmerising twirled details,

we’ll live by the mountains, 
by the forest, 
or the sea,
anywhere where our presences live
for each other,
purely you and I to be seen.   

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.  
Image by Kranich17 from Pixabay

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