Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

Tag: morning

  • Poem: Morning Walks – 30/07/21

    Poem: Morning Walks – 30/07/21

    Horizon stretches so far away
    early in the morning,
    sunlight drenches, beckons,
    welcoming with fingertips
    gentle and knowing,

    strokes of sunshine,
    pristine perfection,
    our hearts pound as
    upon the pavement
    our pattering feet move,
    reaching our goal,
    though it matters not so much now
    as the bonding time does,
    this is so very true.

    My eyes dance upon the
    scene before us,
    pathway, passing neighbours,
    fluffy companions,
    smiles or avoidance?

    Masks may hide greetings
    but they cannot shield the
    glimmer and shine within eyes,
    and while the present climate may have
    crushed some from wanting to
    pass our forms,
    we know they’re practicing safety
    and looking after us and themselves.

    Still, I can’t help but feel a
    brushing off sometimes,
    it’s okay,
    if they’re afraid,
    we know the drill.

    Sometimes we cannot smile,
    but inside our hearts are
    grateful for being allowed out,
    to laugh and chat with each other,
    discuss our troubles and blessings with
    one another.

    The occasional Good morning! or
    brightened set of eyes
    are something to look forward to,
    inside we know that eventually
    the fear within the hearts of others
    will fade away.

    These days,
    these days, it’s different,
    though, like before,
    with time,
    it will return to the same.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by James Wheeler on Unsplash

    Previous Post: ‘Strive’ – 28/07/21

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  • Prose: A Visit – 13/05/21

    Prose: A Visit – 13/05/21

    The sky is pink, grey and blue today, wisps of cotton candy and woollen clouds. I watch as First Light dawns upon me, the day awakens, and I cherish it, awaiting more. What is this fluffy entity which now travels towards my face? This countenance and structure so lovely, perfection, in a way?

    It morphs slightly as it travels, altering size, shape, and form, one moment it’s obscure and barely recognisable, then the next, clearer and pure.

    I won’t say what I suspect these clouds have become, I feel it’s not my place to share, but I will acknowledge its sacredness, of this I have become more and most aware. A benevolent entity travelled unto me, blessing and guiding with his presence, and now my being is vibrant, I am invigorated, then suddenly well-spent.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Image by LevaNevsky from Pixabay

    Previous Post: ‘A Trail of Winding Thoughts’ – 12/05/21

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  • Poem: Morning Chatter – 29/01/21

    Poem: Morning Chatter – 29/01/21

    I’m all out of cares and concerns, 
    leave behind the airs and trials, 
    there is no haughtiness or sinister circumstances,
    view the alterations for miles.

    Those dreams which haunted the mind
    but only last night, 
    are they pointing to, 
    are they signalling signs? 
    Obscure and strange, 
    but there, in existence, to be analysed within the times?

    Truthfully, I cannot say, 
    the images were the makings of another, 
    only relayed to me the very next day, 
    broken sleep having saved, 
    in the morning, an important character, 
    the priors potent and frightening, 
    rattling, 
    yet intriguing,
    first morning light chatter.    

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. 
    Photo by Jr Korpa on Unsplash

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  • Prose Poetry: A Tune For the Bird Who Brightens my Day – 05/04/20

    Prose Poetry: A Tune For the Bird Who Brightens my Day – 05/04/20

    Precious and sweet, in a method of glistening blue, she rises to me, she flies to my open hand, and whispers, “How are you?” My melodious being, my little birdy in special cobalt feathers, she understands what I need during my lonely waking hours. A touch of do re mi and as happy as can be, she presents some well-formed notes to me, not tentatively or wavering but with strong confidence that ensues. She wishes to ensure that my brightness returns, and shall remain, with her tuneful songs, more notes arrive and they shall grow and soften, as sweet as the scent of fresh rain.

My little, little birdy, where did you come from, and where do you go? After the moments in which you cheer my mindset so? You disappear into the wilderness, away toward the horizon, and sometimes I feel guilty when I stop for a spot of contemplation. For, what would occur, what could I do, to capture my free little bluebird all for myself, so I could have her joyous songs forever within my ears? There would be no need for her to sing to anyone else. Although, I understand that these thoughts are selfish of me, and I must reconsider how I deal with my bird in my dreams, because she surely has important tasks elsewhere of cheering others up.  

I must be kind, I must be generous, to allow my birdy to share her love and song with others in the world during their moments of distress, for there is no need to be greedy, as I know she’ll return and sing to me, even when I feel inclined to dance, side step, step, and twirl, ever so freely.

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

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  • Poem: New Morning – 29/02/20

    Poem: New Morning – 29/02/20

    It is a new morning,
Nothing has dared stirring,
Not even the motes of dust in the corner,
The silhouette of the boogie man made of laundry,
All is calm and reposed,
The way I like it,
A city of sleep,
Muck between the eyelids,
Snoozing town,
A new morning for me,
But for everyone else,
Quiet, relaxation,
Disarmed
And ultimately free.
Slowly I awaken my muscles,
My limbs,
My well rested bones,
It is time to rise,
To begin the day as it should be detailed of,
How it should be told,
And carefully I stretch,
Making certain not to disrupt the sleepy spiderweb
In the corner above me,
I smile to myself,
This day will be everything my dreams have
Promised them to be.
One leg into the other,
Pants on,
Shirt on,
Shoes laced and tied,
I yawn loudly,
I displace those dust motes now,
It’s time for them to also rise.
And I sing to myself,
Then hum happily,
As I go about my morning tasks
Knowing the rest of the rested world
Is slowly waking up with me.

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Image by Leo_65 from Pixabay

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