Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

Tag: whimsical

  • Poem: My Shadow, She Follows, My Shadow, She Reassures – 30/12/19

    Poem: My Shadow, She Follows, My Shadow, She Reassures – 30/12/19

     Someone has taken away my shadow,
 cleanly stolen her from me,
 I am greatly displeased,
 I need her alongside me.
  
 She shows that I am actually real,
 in shape and form I am in existence,
 my shadow once was there to 
 provide this assistance
 I miss her being here, I need her reassurance.
  
 Why should I require a shadow of myself 
 to know that I am real?
 What part of me requires 
 this rubbish notion that if she is absent,
 has flown,
 then I am nothing but airiness and untruth?
  
 I cannot speak any more for myself 
 now that I am alone
 but without her, I feel in 
 lesser ownership of the 
 corporal being
 I call my earthly home.
  
 That being said, now I realise that I can 
 shift between forms,
 surely, her loss now seems a glorious prize!
 I am not bound to the earth by her presence,
 I can slip and slide in and out 
 of whatever existence. 
  
 But when I try, it is embarrassing, 
 I cannot make any
 shape-shifting movement
 not even to become a tree or a 
 lonesome shrub which I wish to inhabit.
  
 Then I reach a mirror image in the 
 glass alongside me,
 a storefront in the street,
 and saddened, I notice that who has returned?
 It is my shadow,
 Quietly present and meek. 
  
 I stamp my foot,
 irritated by her return,
 but it is as though she had never truly left,
 it had really been a result of the 
 clouds temporarily obscuring the sun.
  
 My mood is angered and I am bereft,
 but, I'd best return to being grateful for this 
 other part of me,
 the reminder that I am bound to this earth,
 at least for now,
 until a message from heaven is sent.
  
 © 2019 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. 

Unless otherwise stated, 
all "LMH" images are copyrighted 
by Lauren M. Hancock and all rights reserved 2019-2020.

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  • Poem: On a Swing – 15/12/19

    Poem: On a Swing – 15/12/19

     Me on a swing,
 How much I feel so gloriously young and free.
  
 The air rushes against my face,
 Breathless I am, breathtaking, I am amazed,
 At how simple a pleasure can be.
  
 When I swing high and low and higher still,
 And my tippie toes reach, reach, reach, inches higher, 
 More, moreeeee, 
 I feel I can break the record for rising the highest
 I will achieve this, no one will dare deny it
  
 At the lowest point I push my weight forward
 Like a souffle I suddenly explode forth, 
 My interior brimming with pride at the honour 
 I have achieved this little daily pleasure.
  
 I disembark, I shall reach greater heights another day.
 © 2019 Lauren M. Hancock 
also known as Alice Well. All rights reserved.

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