Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

Tag: youth

  • Poem: For the Rain – 08/09/21

    Poem: For the Rain – 08/09/21

    I pray for our future,
    I pray for the rain,
    the scent upon our once-dry shoulders
    smouldering us,
    yet from angry cloud formations
    we edge away in vain,
    but because we are prone,
    prone to the stares of youth,
    we smile, and we grin to ourselves
    for we know the whole truth.

    The motley group stands and witnesses
    as we dance ourselves silly
    in the pelting rain
    and howling breeze,
    no longer encumbered by past holdings of
    circumstance and desire to cower,
    wind whistles between gapped thighs and knees,
    this is our rain dance,
    feel the shower.

    Our power lies within our ability
    to receive,
    from God’s land we will cherish
    what has been given to us,
    indeed
    we will accumulate the raindrops,
    water stores
    they drench us,
    replenish us,
    we grin and cackle together,
    so much joy,
    so much, galore,
    so much more in store.

    The youth stand and stare;
    they do not understand,
    how we, as old souls are apparently
    going mad,
    but we are embracing all that is
    being given to us,
    Nature in her surety is paddling her wings
    among the skyward lake for us,
    you see.

    So, darlings, my youthful obstructions,
    you wonderful beings who cannot understand
    our appreciative actions,
    wonder not at our ability to shine,
    amid the turbulent wind pattern and rain,
    but rather watch us embrace all that Mother Nature is willing to give,
    she provides to us,
    she cleanses us,
    cleanses me,
    we are amazed.

    This feeling is one in which
    I love to revel in,
    we shall continue appreciating for many
    forthcoming days.

    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
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    Previous Post: Sentiments – 07/09/21
    Previous Post: Fashionable Undertakings – 06/09/21

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  • Poem: Expressions In My Painted Corner – 04/07/20

    Poem: Expressions In My Painted Corner – 04/07/20

    I’ve painted myself into a corner,
with heavy shades
of red and black,
crimson for the
heartache,
darkness for the emptiness 
after the fact.
 
When I lost access to 
my chaotic world,
a paradise I shouldn't 
have cherished,
I felt broken, 
no recourse,
misunderstood, 
essentially alone:

Whom could I waltz through life with now?
Whom was left to cast my 
charming smiles upon, 
to share my lofty views 
in excited tones?

When he or she or another one left,
and those other important ones, too,
it seemed as if I’d lost 
my everything,
but now, at these
warped memories
I wonder: who on earth were you?
 
They had little lasting impact
on my life,
simply passers-by
who only meant
themselves well,
their sudden absences without alibis,
their silences spoke their truths,
I am now completely underwhelmed.
 
Selfish needs later attended to
after some uncomfortable, 
hastily arranged dates - 

their halfhearted, 
lackluster attention cast over
foamed four dollar coffees -
'wise investments':
I was viewed as a stock market who
should pay dividends later that day.

I proved so desperately hopeful 
for positive connections, 
genuine interactions, 
yet my lonely eagerness,
was perceived as a targeted weakness, 
I would later bend, shatter, 
and break.

Some chanced manipulation 
to slyly extract from me  
without my whole realisation or knowing,

because I was sitting there 
smiling,
consenting,
hopefully waiting,
my obvious yearning 
for acceptance
continually, perpetually growing,
like hungering, destructive flames,
they consumed me. 
 
Made pliable,
easily melded,
I allowed my 
resolve and will
to be bent,
to be repeatedly stung red-raw 
as though by a heated iron poker's end, 
to be tarnished,
and for what?

Absolutely nothing,
my efforts and emotions all ill spent.

Yet another 
redundant contact
to be eventually blocked or 
erased from view,
naivety and gullibility stole 
the best of my younger years, 
this is an essential, festering truth.

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

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  • Poem: In The Springtime of Your Youth – 11/10/19

    Poem: In The Springtime of Your Youth – 11/10/19


    It’s like in your life the season is spring, 
     everything is regenerating;
     all is coming to life again.
      
     The flower buds protrude,
     the birds in their nests become
     obsessed with their new fledgings.
      
     Parents anxiously feeding,
     fussing,
     brightness and flock of a feather becoming.
      
     Your heart swells at the feeling that you too
     are appreciated,
     looked after,
     cared for with great gentleness and self-assurance.
      
     Not by another but by yourself,
     you almost feel as if you don’t deserve these
      moments here in this peaceful, blossoming world
     where you have assigned a place of love,
     a place of comfort,
     a place of personal growth. 
      
     Because here you will know of this more,
     soon when you realise that you are overdue for everything
     brilliant,
     because for you, my sweet,
     there are many open doors. 
      
     So do not cry at the notion that you are less than deserving, 
     do not allow a single tear to fall unless it is from
     your personal feeling of a blessing.
      
     And please love yourself
     within the headiness of this springtime air,
     embrace the birds, the circling bees,
     the hanging trees with their veils to avoid 
    their hidden passageways being seen. 
       
    Your heart needs to be open and willingly prepared for this care.

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


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