Lauren M. Hancock poetry and prose
winding worlds, sharpened words, and vibrant art
I urge myself to persevere. It is the only possible route to take. Of course, wallowing and huddling in bed is an option, but it’s not one I would readily like to select. One can only indulge in so much melancholy and shutting oneself off from the world until enough is enough. It’s time to [...]
As a rainbow warrior, I take it upon myself to bring light into the world. I bear my brightness against the darkness within ongoing roads and winding fields. I take on the enemies within darkened dreams that tiptoe lovingly into darkly hued painterly scenes. I shine a kaleidoscope of colours into avenues and alleyways that [...]
Hope is the feeling of a singing soul, the uprising of a perfectly white dove against the pristine blue sky, tickling its feathers in the tapestry of life. It is when our emotions run free, accepting of openness, love, and crystalline positivity. The promise of something only pure and of sincere goodness, that an individual [...]
We can, at times, choose to fall into the cracks, to allow ourselves to become lost, forgotten in our life paths. There is a certain way of thinking, defeatist in itself, that will disallow us to keep churning along. Our former dream-chasing no longer ongoing, the once-joyous ribbons ceasing their unwinding, ceremonious unfurling. Because if [...]
There was a river flowing from my heart at the point where we first met. Two streaming rushes converging into other, as we assessed and smiled and interacted with one another. I drew pictures on the back of your hand, little symbols here and there, you allowed me to be cutesy and my childish myself, [...]
I sail the seas, high and low, searching for someone to come save me. To hold me tightly, embrace me, and breathe in my scent. To accept me with my flaws as well as for what they might view as perfection sent their way. I ride the seas and find many sea creatures, in many [...]
There was that special moment, when you first reached for and clasped my hand. Do you remember, darling, as we sat outside on my back porch, in those “King and Queen” deck chairs? You hesitantly, tentatively asked me if this was okay, I smiled and beamed inwardly to myself – of course it was fine! [...]
