Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

Tag: pastel

  • Story example: Zimmy the Fashionable Snowman Finds His Way – 23/07/19

    Story example: Zimmy the Fashionable Snowman Finds His Way – 23/07/19

    Despite his situation, Zimmy always chased his dreams.

    No one ever invited Zimmy to the table. He was forever left to his own devices, he was always cast aside with contempt and reviled. Why was this so? How could one little snowman be made to view and experience such deep pains below?

    Zimmy was always a cheery brunette, his shoulder length style healthily bouncing to and fro, his perfect follicles just begging to be seen, to be gloriously shown. He wished to be seen by the world and acknowledged for his beauty, style and grace, a showcasing of his delicate preparation and procedure that took hours upon hours to trial upon his well made-up face.

    Yet how could this dream be an actuality when he worked behind the scenes, by himself, as a bank office cleaner, no one to view him? The only times outside he faced were the short walks from the car to his work premises, and the weekend’s food errand trips, here there were no  surprises or coincidences.

    It wasn’t that Zimmy was lazy, nor lacking a sense of motivation to pursue a dream that was dandy and fine and his calling, but melt upon melting was he becoming, he knew that if his dream were to be achieved, that this was the correct and special time to be showing. Zimmy did not want to turn into a puddle before he could achieve the goal of his life. Viewed him en masse, all eyes set upon him, steely and serious, curious and admiring views, he would be the prize to be seen, a fresh faced beauty, to the industry he’d be so coveted and new.

    In the corner at home, Zimmy sat huddled away from the heat with his achingly empty belly. His malicious family smiled down upon him with mouthfuls of food which they chewed ravenously and freely.

    “Hungry, Zimmy?” his mother heckled.

    “Want some of this?” his sister hollered, presenting then detracting her loaded fork.

    “Oh, give him a break,” his father snapped, and threw him a cube of beef curry.

    Although Zimmy hated being treated differently, at least the forced starvation kept him slim and trim for his upcoming fashion show and after party. The fashion show was elegant and simple, it was quiet and hushed, an appreciation for a designer’ s talents, showcased upon Zimmy with his great figure and utter charm. This being his first official show, Zimmy was incredibly nervous, eyes red and raw and nerves just painfully so, what to do but put one foot before another upon the catwalk, and concentrate so incredibly well?

    At the end of the walkway, awaited Zimmy’s closest friends, cheering him on with voices so boisterously strong, to commend. These were his true family, not the beings who starved and abused him, these individuals who were truly providing him with emotional support and qualities of love and trust, unlike the ones who had snatched and shattered these.

    Family doesn’t have to be the clan one was born into, the bloodline of relations does not determine who is there for you, for love, honour and acceptance can come from any one, a shoulder to learn on, a smile to share, a hand to weep upon. Who is in your extended family? I’m sure you already know, and thinking about them should cause you to feel joyous, allowing a feeling of acceptance and being free to grow. A family appreciates you for you and you alone.

    Whether friends or actual blood family, they will hold you up, tell you the truth even when you don’t want to hear it, for the good of who you are, they make you become stronger from it. Your family hopefully only wants the best for you, for them to witness your life’s successes, these are what they wish could be seen. Your life’s journey. Their love for you is like a warm, gentle caress.

    © 2019 Alice Well Art, Lauren M. Hancock, also known as Alice Well. All rights reserved.

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  • Story example: Hungry Patient Yak – 22/07/19

    Story example: Hungry Patient Yak – 22/07/19

    Hungry yet patient Yak.

    At the crest of a hill, at the very top I could see, a hungry, utterly famished Yak staring right back at me. Before him he had a plate of steak, carrot and broccoli, his knife and fork at the ready, he looked at his plate so eagerly. Had I interrupted his dinner, I ignorantly wondered, was in the wrong place at the wrong time? However the Yak simply blinked back at me slowly, as he produced a large bottle of wine! 

    With an ever so slight beckoning of his hoof, he drew me towards him, up and up and up the hill, puff puff, I panted, getting closer to the sky as a beautifully crystalline clear roof. How outrageous, I though to myself, that a Yak could be holding an offering of wine, but I liked it occasionally, the red was ever so tasty, so trundled up the hill did I.

    I was close, then closer and closer, and suddenly the Yak was losing his grip, in slow motion I witnessed this arrival of the horrible incident, and squeezed my eyes shut for the moment of impact, the spillage was sure to be it. Then I heard a rolling, boom boom roll boom as the bottle scrambled down the hill, peeking through my eyes, I discovered the bottle was still intact and very, very full. 

    With great joy I bounded toward that bottle, fetching its miraculousness for Yak and I to handle, polite Yak had still postponed his main course to sip gently with me, with a backdrop of beautiful bright sky to be seen. Surely his meal was cold now, in fact, confused, I looked around for surely who, could have prepared his meal and served it: Bon appetit! There was no person nor animal to view. 

    Never mind, I thought, I uncorked that beauty so freely, and polite Yak even shared his carrot and broccoli with me, what a darling Yak was he, he is now a great friend to me.

    © 2019 Alice Well Art, Lauren M. Hancock, also known as Alice Well. All rights reserved.


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  • Story example: Salami and Vintage Cheese – 22/07/19

    Story example: Salami and Vintage Cheese – 22/07/19

    Salami and Vintage Cheese, what a glorious taste bud explosion indeed.

    Salami and Cheese were special to one another, essentially some would say they were made for each other. The rich, bitey texture of the black vintage label stung the tongue, in such delightful manner that Salami would fetch more than another three slices with her forefinger and thumb.

    Cheese loved to be consumed, it was his calling, his life’s awakening, it was what he was born to do, his strong bitey taste was his form and method of duty. And when Salami was in her manic hunger moods, Vintage Cheese and everything else in her path would be what she’d consume, even her own little Twiggy stick friends – her own meat family! Afterwards, to their remaining family, she’d not bother to make amends.

    Salami was greedy, she loved to eat all day, there was no other moment where she did not have cheese upon the brain. Occasionally though, she would be paired with a crusty bread roll and a slice of fatty ham, upon a slice of factory made cheese slice they’d be stacked, by a human who gave not a single damn. Then adding to the list of items, salad items stacked as you please, the morose Salami now suffered in these moments, without ongoing ease, without her Vintage Black Label Cheese. This mediocre plastic version of cheese was not for her haughty self, she deserved the finest of accompaniments, something worthy to and for herself.

    Still, she put up with being consumed with the slice of veiny, fatty ham, and the lettuce, cheese, tomato and jalapenos, with a thick squeeze of mayonnaise as a somewhat worthy accompaniment, but long did she for the day that Vintage Cheddar and she would fly, far away, to a less convoluted world that did not separate one from the other on any given day.

    © 2019 Alice Well Art, Lauren M. Hancock, also known as Alice Well. All rights reserved.

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  • Story example: Little Sooty Bunny and the Forest – 17/07/19

    Story example: Little Sooty Bunny and the Forest – 17/07/19

    Little Sooty Bunny liked when she could explore.

    By Alice Well (LMH) (c)

    Little Sooty Bunny liked to be led astray. Although she was cruelly kept captive upon a leash, occasionally her owner’s heart would be swayed. During these times she would be led off the path, the common ground as it were known and called, and into the forest into a jovial scene where characters waited to greet Little Sooty Bunny and made her excitement grow!

    It was on adventures such as these that the Bunny wished extremely ever so much to escape, so she could play in the woods, with the Twin Trees and their smiling mouths, eyes hooded secretively, only happiness exuded, no negativity, no horrid hate. The Sun and the Moon chuckling and giggling with accompanying forest tunes, the Trees so free they were tickling Bunny with their sweetly sung Fur Elises and Clair de Lunes.

    But Bunny was stuck! Held by that unfair leash, how would she escape, from the terrible owner she always managed to accidentally displease every day? For every movement or noise Bunny would make would upset and cause her owner’s anger to flare like a terrible disease, taking hours to abate. The only reason he took Bunny out was to get her away from the house, where he longed to lay about, and tiring Bunny of energy meant his later relaxing could be uninterrupted and entirely at ease.

    The silly owner didn’t realise that if he allowed Bunny loose to freedom, he would kill two birds with one stone: allowing him to continually laze about and allowing Bunny the freedom to escape from the cruel owner, of him to be without, and to have a more loving, welcoming home.

    Then one day a crafty squirrel descended from a tree, “Allow me to help, dear Bunny, allow me to help you view this world, how special it is, how beautifully perfect it can be.” And gnaw through the leash slowly did Squirrel until he gained success, with a tentative look at her sleepy owner Bunny was suddenly more than impressed! Escape did she, after thanking her saviour, and into the forest she went to live, a life of happiness and ardour. It was something that Bunny was most deserving of, something she appreciated most wholeheartedly.

    © 2019 Alice Well Art, Lauren M. Hancock, also known as Alice Well. All rights reserved.

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  • Story example: Television Rabbit – 14/07/19

    Story example: Television Rabbit – 14/07/19

    (c) By Alice Well (LMH) 

    Television Rabbit was in demand all over town. Fuzzy television screens he could fix in a flash, for this task he held the undefeated title and crown. All he’d do was hop hop HOP atop the faulty appliance, and alter the angle of his electronic ears, for a correct signal or signals, to analogically find them. 

    One fine day he was strutting about town, soaking in the glory of his knowledge that wherever he was, success could be found, then suddenly, slowly, he felt a slight droooooop. 

    In fear he grabbed his ‘bunny ear’ and found it had gone from rigid to lacklustre, weak and limp like a kinaesthetically warped and unattractive spoon. 

    “By George, what will I do?” he frantically thought to himself. All traces of bold arrogance now aborted, he was paining now, within himself. How could he perform his job tasks with expertise and ease?? Now both ears were drooping and bent, was he the only one who would truly care that they almost reached his knees?

    For now, his competitor, Panda the Tuner, would likely take over all of his future clients, and saddening though it was, perhaps Television Rabbit’s working days had been had, now it was his time to experience the television’s fuzz of his own faulty appliance that he had. 

    These days he is quieter, much less bravado has he, he walks slowly among the town peoples, wistfully dreaming of analogue TVs. If only he could fix, go back to his hey day, but the truth of the matter is there was no need for him nor Panda, for digital TV was now the way.

    © 2019 Alice Well Art, Lauren M. Hancock, also known as Alice Well. All rights reserved.

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  • Story example: Sorrow the Bulldog – 14/07/19

    Story example: Sorrow the Bulldog – 14/07/19

    Sorrow always hoped for more…

    (c) By Alice Well (LMH)

    Sorrow the Bulldog was always hopeful for more. More treats, more pats, more walks around the park, more trips to the pet store, “More for me!” she always thought. The pet store was her favourite for it held so many things, so many items, foods, treats, even collars that were bright and bling bling. 

    Sometimes her owner didn’t have the time to play, or take her out on a particularly boring and rainy day, for he had work of his own to perform, Sorrow was made to wait, and she didn’t want to accept any other terms than ‘now’, let alone ‘soon’. 

    So she’d plonk herself before her owner, glancing up then deeply into his eyes, her permeating sorrow more than visible, watery worlds swimming in her eyes. She had been cooped up for the past three days, surely it was time, that this was the day, for an outing so sweet, perhaps a new treat?? Even browsing would suffice, it would lift her from her grumbling mood, but wait, wait, made to wait, it made her stomach nervously churn, caused her to feel unwell.

    Then her owner gathered his documents in a pile, arranged neatly, in a punctual style, and rushing forth emotions of joy from Sorrow, the joy did fly, they were set to go out, patience had paid off!

    That afternoon Sorrow was sporting a new pink collar, fitted with fifty seven diamantés, she was the height of fashion, worthy of a pet magazine cover, and the sorrow had somewhat dissipated, at least for the day, grumbling and sadness blown clean away.

    by Alice Well (LMH) (c)

    © 2019 Alice Well Art, Lauren M. Hancock, also known as Alice Well. All rights reserved.

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  • Story example: Sinterspookspand the Key

    by Alice Well (LMH) (c)

    In this world there are many lost keys, spare keys, keys to unknown locks and lockets. They are known as the lost souls of trinkets, the absolute saddening moment when one just wants to open that lock, to that one house, one heart, one hope, but without that key, hearts can be broken, emotions rushing forth freely.

    There existed a glorious key known as Sinterspookspand. She was innocent and somewhat gullible and naive, she absorbed whatever information was fed to her by the other mischievous keys. She was told she could open any lock, if she wished and wished and wished enough, they had her believe she could open the windows to the soul! Now wasn’t this ridiculous, why wasn’t she otherwise told?

    So Sinterspookspand went about her daily life believing she could enter another’s soul, simply by unlocking their eyes with her simple key structure, at this notion I am ever so appalled. Luckily she did not pry her herself into the physical eyes of another, wouldn’t that leave a mess so atrocious indeed, something I’d not wish to be viewed by any other!

    One fine day she spotted a shattered heart upon the counter. With a smile she began to contemplate, to ponder. Could she mend his broken self, if she wished well enough? As she approached he knew he must seamlessly rejoin himself and become tough. For the sake of this key’s naive self understanding, he mended himself even though he was eternally broken inside, and together they were forever and ever, this is the tale that would utterly divide. 

    © 2019 Alice Well Art, Lauren M. Hancock, also known as Alice Well. All rights reserved.

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