Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

Tag: love

  • Poem: Emotional Flight – 22/04/20

    Poem: Emotional Flight – 22/04/20

    Triumphant whispers heard along the plains
as dire circumstances wane,
they express newfound freedom to be had.
 
Their softly spoken words
envelope like kid gloves,
they speak of goodness,
of hope,
of reinforced love.
 
Because with the returning of others
to another’s open arms,
the reuniting warms them,
it has been so terribly long,
 
or so it seemed,
the removal of allowance of
physical expression.
 
Heaven has now descended,
their adoration has been placed
into motion.
 
The duration’s away,
for some so painful,
though for others
they could cope better than their matches,
 
but here we are,
slowly reuniting again,
a scope of positive circumstances,
a veil now lifted to all,
feelings patched,
on the mend.
 
The control which was so utterly necessary
is gradually being withdrawn
and in the eyes of others
like them, us,
you and I,
we are able to express desires,
for simple touch, for embraces,
for everything able in company.
 
This period has made important,
a great highlighting,
of what may have been taken for granted by
you and I,
but for now,
we allow our hearts to be free,
emotions to positively fly.

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

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  • Poem: Forever – 26/03/20

    Draw me closer,
it may be the last time for a while,
feel my skin brush against yours
and our smiles within grow wider.
 
Understand that that is not goodbye
but “I will see you soon”,
my darling, you must know
the energy of your loving heart can fill any room.
 
The heart can project so much more than mere words can,
I will always wait for you,
and you for I,
we will be together again soon.
 
Need not tremble with the knowledge that 
the separation is for an indeterminate time,
know that we can remain in each other’s lives,
in so many ways,
 
We are and still will be 
eternally entwined.

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

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  • Poem: Damsel in Distress – 22/03/20

    Poem: Damsel in Distress – 22/03/20

    I used to be a damsel in distress,
I called and called to them,
to assist me with my longing heart,
yet all of them decided to leave.
 
I worked so hard on being that
which portrayed what I felt was visual worth,
without understanding that what mattered 
was not essentially looks
but a kind, warm, and caring heart.
 
Others stared as I went on by,
my chest filled with pride 
at knowing that I had drawn their eyes,
but what I didn’t realise was that 
I was only striking for a second,
perhaps when I opened my mouth I’d lose their attention.
 
In distress was I, 
I wanted to be known,
acknowledged,
accepted,
to be understood,
to receive the gratification that came with being wanted,
the validation I'd glean inside.
 
However, the turnstiles kept turning,
and the admirers kept disappearing,
only there for a few fleeting seconds,
I became more daring.
 
Then underneath it all,
I slowly realised
that I needed to work on myself,
not on the outer, exterior view,
what mattered was my mind.
 
My inner truths,
the way I would treat mankind,
and the most important things of all were love
and the fact that I was grateful,
that I was still breathing,
despite the haphazard, lethal points in my life.

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Photo by Alice Alinari on Unsplash

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  • Poem: Salted Iridescence – 18/03/20

    Poem: Salted Iridescence – 18/03/20

    The taste of salt upon your skin,
the glistening iridescence
as I feel your glow within,
the sun shining through your being
as though warming my very soul,
like the heated taste of winter when
you and I were eternally enthralled.
 
I can feel the gurgling of growing gumption
from within your soaring spirit,
rising from the former desolation within,
and I know,
you know,
that we will remain entwined,
as long as we stay heart-to-heart,
forever in need of each other’s fair wine.
 
Our necessity to be close to one another
has the sharp addictive taste of that salt
that I once tasted on your skin,
and if I were to magnify this need
I would understand that it comes from
a state of savoury and lack of sweetness,
a desire to cause that salivary moment,
to keep it stirring,
 
And while I knead into the skin of the
effervescent sparkle that you bring,
I know,
honey, you know,
that we were always meant to be.  

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock (including illustration). All rights reserved.

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  • Poem: Cherished – 01/03/20

    Poem: Cherished – 01/03/20

    Who do you love, my dearest,
who is it you cherish?
Who is it that makes your skin tingle,
your veins pump wildly?
 
Who is it who feeds your desire,
causes you to grow lighter while your heart palpates,
big and small?
Enormous and bolder,
your simmering feelings,
the bubbling brewing of emotions
in the depths below.
 
These, they are your lovers,
who wait hand and foot and heart upon you,
and their minds,
their minds, darlings,
are plain to see,
they have dedicated themselves to you.
 
There is a light within their soul that trickles forth
for you to wrangle,
grasp,
capture and take hold,
the evocation of determination they have captured
for you,
is to ensure that they are eternally by your side.
 
Even in the ethereal you have love and loved ones
so cherished,
spoken or unspoken,
they like to accompany you,
even with you being unknowing.
 
But your love,
your adoration here on Earth,
they are here,
willing and waiting,
understanding that your heart
has been made heavy enough.
 
Thus, they travel alongside,
hand upon shoulder,
fingers laced in yours,
know that in life they will never leave you,
and not even in death shall some depart.
 
Their path is alongside you now,
they are precious,
they are wholesome in their intent,
to see you successful and happy,
is their goal,
and it is something irrevocably well spent.

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

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  • Poem: Scent by the Hearth – 19/02/20

    Poem: Scent by the Hearth – 19/02/20

    I remember the scent by the hearth,
where you and I laid that night.
The sweet oil of ylang ylang permeating,
Heavenly, unique.
 
My heart, it beat wildly from your touch,
there was nothing I wanted more,
and as our feet entwined by flickering flames encased only
by metal and heated glass,
I wonder now, did you feel the same?
 
The emotions,
a sense of wild abandon,
a striking feeling between my shoulder blades,
as though I’d been sledged in the middle,
split into two,
one piece for me,
and the other for you.
 
Then with your magical touch I would conjoin once more,
become the woman that you’ve always loved and adored,
and now I understand that it can take a mere whiff of a scent to
dredge up a wanted memory,
from something, somewhere, that was encased so pretty.
 
By the hearth, my dear, is how I most remember you,
by the fire,
wild and free,
flames flickering with ease,
and I can smell that carrier oil,
which we used in its purest form,
to tide the gentlest touches into firmer movements
with dexterity
until the morn.
© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Image by judenicholson from Pixabay

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  • Poetry: Stability – 17/02/20

    Poetry: Stability – 17/02/20

    I once had a metaphorical finger waggled in front of my face: “I know what you want.”
“Stability,” I blurted out.
 
I needed to feel settled, I needed to feel wanted, I needed to feel, well, loved. I had been on a trek through life trying to find the right one – is there even such a thing for me? I’d occasionally wonder.
 
But the truth of the matter is, I was yearning, desperately hoping that the one who asked me was the right one. It was not meant to be. Details are frivolous, yet the feelings behind them are not.
 
I knew that I needed to firstly love myself, but how could I be expected to do so when every part of me screamed that I wasn’t good enough? I had my head in the clouds, peeking through to the sun, and still, the damage to my eyes in the glare was done.
 
I was imperfectly perfect, as well are, as we all are designed to be. Nothing personal, but we can counter ourselves in the wind or the air, or upon the land, or in fire, or within the sea, all we need is a slight understanding of the word ‘Me’, and what it encompasses.
 
It speaks of everything that we are, within two simple letters, capitalised, not, Meeeee, I can yawn the vowels out wide, like a yowling cat, a mama I’m still to find.
 
My search would continue on, the search for myself swept to the side, and in every new face I met, there was a lack of recognition, a mirroring that wasn’t present in the eyes before me in which I was searching.
 
Maybe one day, this stability would come. Maybe the next day, or the day after that, my desire would come to fruition, and  become whole and known.  
 
© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Image by Andreas Breitling from Pixabay

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  • Poem: Gratitude – 02/02/20

    Poem: Gratitude – 02/02/20

    Priceless are those moments
where we smile and laugh, from ear to ear,
where each other’s company is appreciated
like lollipops in children’s playful but greedy hands
we are sweetly loved
we are tightly held dear.
 
I appreciate them all,
they are my world
outside my private space,
my personal world of everything
we are gathered around to share our stories
to know that we are loved.
 
It goes without saying
that I can, I will, I do show them that I care
because in specific years I showed them that perhaps I really
didn’t.
 
The enormous sense of welcoming to me
each time I felt and needed to come back
a slow build to triumph,
the personal progress made mainly thanks to them.
 
They caressed me,
cotton-wool-balled my mind,
allowed me to sleep whenever required because
time heals
sleep heals
this is what I was always told,
thank you for permitting my return, my repeated infancy,
when I was struggling to crawl.
 
The most sentimental moments are those in which
I have the sense of family, love, and friends,
support is here in a structure that some aren't lucky enough
to ever find.
 
I count myself one of the lucky,
I’ve been blessed with such care, concern, empathy,
that I must one day repay them is a given,
sometimes their love is overwhelming.
 
© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
All images signed “LMH”
are copyrighted 2019-2020 by Lauren M. Hancock
and all rights reserved.

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  • Poem: Siesta – 24/01/20

    Poem: Siesta – 24/01/20

    Afternoon siesta,
weather moody, growling, sweet,
curl into covers, tucked in,
slowly drifting off,
as common though as beautiful as
the morning mist.
 
Muscles so relaxed they might ooze off bones
tender and supple,
anonymity in the dreamy fields,
a fervent chase begins,
of your placating love, still worthy.

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
All images signed “LMH”
are copyrighted 2019-2020 by Lauren M. Hancock

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  • Poem: Scent of an Aura – 23/01/20

    Poem: Scent of an Aura – 23/01/20

    I love the scent which surrounds you,
your aura glows with meaning,
permeating your outer shell with reinforced support,
reassurance and kindness.
You can try to fix my problems and aid my
floaty, fanciful dreams
but you know that this is not the right method for me.
 
You take my brokenness and allow it to be a beautiful view,
though still in pieces, you understand it’s my role
to rearrange myself into something more
positive, useful,
that to allow transmutation through your hands would be wrong,
it is for me to wield the vision here,
hold me close as I once more transform,
I love the scent when you hold me in your arms.

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
All images signed “LMH”
are copyrighted 2019-2020 by Lauren M. Hancock
and all rights reserved.

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