NaPoWriMo, or National Poetry Writing Month, is an annual project in which participating poets attempt to write a poem a day for the month of April.
I haven’t written poetry like this before, but I will take the challenge this month and try to write one poem each day. They may be short Haiku’s, or rambling pieces, or jitties – according to the mood and feel of the day.
I hope they will be worth reading and worth writing.
Please make a comment to encourage me, or tell me to put the pen away!
If you would like to join the challenge too, https://www.napowrimo.net/
Let me know if you join and submit your site. Have fun.
Day 1
CAGE:
Acrostic
Can she cope with constant disappointment?
Afraid instead of risking love again
Grieving, the heart cocoons itself in a cage
Excluding all others, but not preventing pain.
Haiku:
She’s trapped in bars of
Bitterness, lies and fear, but
the door is not locked!
Day 2
HAIKU: (platonic love)
I had my own child –
never had I known such love –
Then came grand children!
Day 3
I didn’t really understand today’s optional prompt – to write a surreal prose poem.
So if you forgive me, I decided to write something on the theme of poems.
First a limerick:
I fancied to dabble in rhyme,
but never could find the time.
Then a challenge arose
One-a-day to compose,
Whilst the bells over April still chime.
And another acrostic:
Pretty words dancing in lines
Offering moods and tastes of the heart,
Even if the lyrics don’t always rhyme,
Meanings creatively expressed as art.
Day 4
Strangest Things
Who doesn’t love an orchid
the blooms so long they stay.
But come and look what this one did –
It upped and walked away!
Or have you seen the spiders
mimicking as ants?
They look sweet to outsiders,
but don’t get them in your pants!
And if you go down under,
there’s a plant in dessert streets,
where insects tricked as plunder,
as it stinks of rotting meat.
The more we look at creation,
scientists have found,
that what’s known is but a fraction
of the spectacular around.
Day 5 –
NaPoWriMo prompt:
Now try your hand at writing your own poem about how a pair or trio very different things would perceive of a blessing or, alternatively, how these very different things would think of something else (luck, grief, happiness, etc).
My Rebirth – 4 different view-points.
Me –
I’m tickled, overjoyed,
with this new life I’ve been given.
I was pickled, near destroyed,
now in Jesus, all forgiven.
Satan –
I’m angry, disappointed,
I thought her pain wound keep her bound,
but now she’s free and re-anointed
And my plans are run aground.
Bible –
I’m delighted to be dusted,
treasured, seen and read;
excited that these words are trusted,
that the Lord our God has said.
God –
My heart it sings in celebration
for my daughter has come home;
The angels join the jubilation
that she’s back where she belongs.
Day 6
Complicated – Day 6 NaPoWriMo
FMF prompt word is complicate, so I’m going to really confuse myself and hopefully not confuse you, as I complicate the task of writing a FMF post, combining the word complicate, with the NaPoWriMo’s optional prompt below.
‘Today’s we’d like to challenge you to write a poem rooted in “weird wisdom,” by which we mean something objectively odd that someone told you once, and that has stuck with you ever since.’
I’m already suitably confused explaining this and the added complication has tied me in knots, but I do have an idea – of something I always heard as a child and then continued to tell my own children.
It is the consequence of that ‘weird wisdom’ , which I will attempt to put into some kind of rhyme for the NaPoWriMo challenge.
Navigating truth and lies
is complicated from the start;
When we come into this world,
We only really know our heart.
Parents, siblings, teachers,
they all give of their best,
to guide and give us wisdom,
but sometimes it’s a mess!
One day in school I saw my son,
he wasn’t in his room; so
I paused to ask him what was wrong
and understood quite soon.
His nose he hid behind one hand,
his tum behind the other –
‘My tummy hurts’ he softly lied
But I knew, cos I’m his mother.
You see, already he had learned
To play me at my game –
I’d lied: ‘Your nose will grow!’
And so he hid his shame.
This is a true story that taught me to be careful of the lies and stories I pass on to my children.
Day 7
I’ve been offline since Saturday evening (it is now Monday evening), but I did write a short poem on Sunday, based on the poem a wrote for Day 6’s prompt. I wrote a Haiku on the same theme – ie: sayings such as – ‘If you lie, your nose will grow.’
Haiku
We tell them ‘white lies’
Control disguised as wisdom
Then cry when they lie!
DAY 8
Today, we challenge you to write a poem that centres around an encounter or relationship between two people (or things) that shouldn’t really have ever met – whether due to time, space, age, the differences in their nature, or for any other reason.
A Haiku
Moses met with God
as a man meets with his friend
They spoke face-to-face.
Free verse
No man can see God’s face
and live, the Bible states;
unless the glory of God rests on him.
On Moses it rested.
When God first appeared to Moses
He spoke through burning flames,
though the bush was not consumed.
And Moses heard.
The Almighty had chosen Moses for His plan
to bring freedom to His people in Egypt.
He needed him to understand His purpose;
And Moses knew.
Moses heard God speak out of the burning bush;
On the mountain he met God face-to-face.
Of course he accepted his destiny.
Wouldn’t you?
Day 9
Today, we’d like to challenge you to write your own ode celebrating an everyday object.
Ode to the wind
Oh, breath of my body,
life that I breathe;
vital, ethereal mystery.
Whence comest thou
and to where do you blow?
You who circulate every corner,
every crevice,
every forest,
jungle,
village, city and open space.
You scream through deserts
precipitate the valleys
roaring over the mountain-tops.
You hover, roam
and bluster
over every ocean
river and lake;
over every course of water
enlivening
determining their destiny
by your direction and will.
Such power,
formidable strength
cyclonic rages,
gales and tornadoes;
indiscriminate in destruction
as in blessing.
You carry the storm
then quieten a calm
a whispering breeze
welcoming coolness
after the heat of the day.
I love how you rustle the leaves
and they dance and wave to you
as you sing together.
I feel your touch and humble infilling – taken for granted
hardly perceptible,
but I hear your rich voices
and see your voluminous manifestations around.
I need you –
elementally,
physically
and emotionally.
I’m a lifeless void without you.
You are as the Spirit of God –
essential,
a formless presence,
giving my life a voice
and a song of being and joy.
How I love your
beautifully piped melodies,
sweet, ecstatic vibrations
soaring the heights
celebrating total freedom
of being all you were designed to embrace.
Your kiss
leaves me gasping
for more of you,
for you take my breath away.
Day 10
Today, we’d like to challenge you to write a poem based on one of the curious headlines, cartoons, and other journalistic tidbits featured at Yesterday’s Print, where old new stays amusing, curious, and sometimes downright confusing.
I certainly found the ‘Yesterday’s Print’ confusing, so I wrote something about the news in general.
A Limerick
What do you think of the news?
Myself I believe it’s a ruse –
to make us all sad
or fear we’ve gone mad
But I can switch it off if I choose!
A Haiku
A fait accompli
when the news is on TV –
always yesterday’s!
And a silly poem:
One of the delicacies
of yesterday’s news
when wrapped aromas
through newspapers ooze.
Peppered in salt
teased in vinegar –
the best news for me
fish and chips for my tea!
Day 11
Day 11: One-liners
Finally, our optional prompt for the day honors the “ones” in the number 11. Today, we’d like to challenge you to write either a monostich, which is a one-line poem, or a poem made up of one-liner style jokes/sentiments.
A Monostich poem
Choices
Don’t eat what you can’t leave!
——————
The traditions, maxims and rules of my family were conveyed through one liners, that I grew up with and have echoed since forever in my head.
Some of them were confusing, some at best dubious and some were lies.
Most of the one-liners aimed at children are not worth keeping!
Others were solid and some humorous.
I kept those to continue to pass on to the children and grandchildren, but mostly I have added new, encouraging one-liners for the next generation.
Sorry, but I struggled to make it a poem.
One liners in the family, for us all to live by:
If you can’t beat em, join em
If a job’s worth doing, it’s worth doing well.
No use crying over spilt milk
Waste not want not
Be good – and if you can’t be good, be careful
What don’t kill you, makes you stronger
If you’ve n’ote nice to say, say n’ote
You’re as daft as a brush, and twice as hairy
Love your neighbour as yourself.
Blood is thicker than water
Leave the plate clean
One liners of general family wisdom:
There’s none so queer as folk
If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.
red sky at night, shepherds delight
One for sorrow, two for joy
Elephants never forget
A stitch in time saves nine
It never rains, but it pours
Time flies when you’re having fun
Expect the unexpected
There’s a reason for everything
For everything there is a season
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder
There’s nothing new under the sun
You can’t judge a book by its cover
One liners for us children to live by
Children should be seen and not heard
If you ask, you don’t get
If you don’t ask, you don’t want
I want, never gets
It’s rude to ask
Love begins at home
To serve the queen, to help other people and to keep the brownie-guide law
Be grateful for what you’ve got
You’ll get what you’re given
If you don’t stop crying, I’ll give you something to cry about
Wash your hands, you don’t know where they’ve been
Mind your own business
I’m off to back o’ Joss’s
Don’t be a mardy baby.
Day 12
FMF and NaPoWriMo combined
I decided to combine the FMF prompt of ‘LIMIT’ with the NaPoWriMo challenge that I had just begun to compose on the train from St Pancras Station…
For the NaPoWriMo challenge, I took my inspiration from the opening sentence, rather than the optional prompt. It was written there:
‘Happy twelfth day of NaPoWriMo / GloPoWriMo, everyone! (Too bad it’s not like the twelve days of Christmas – maybe we could have twelve words a-rhyming, eleven stanzas singing, ten poets sighing, etc., etc.)’
The tune became an ear-worm and, as it is April, it struck me that we are now on the 12th day of Easter, the first being on Easter Monday, April 1st.
And so we now have:
The Twelve Days of Easter
- On the first day of Easter the True Love gave to me –
Life through His death on that Tree.
- On the second day of Easter the True Love gave to me –
Love without limit,
AND
Life through His death on that Tree.
- On the third day of Easter the True Lord gave to me –
Redemption,
Love without limit,
AND
Life through His death on that Tree.
- On the fourth day of Easter the True Lord gave to me –
Wisdom of the Spirit,
Redemption,
Love without limit,
AND
Life through His death on that Tree.
- On the fifth day of Easter the True Love gave to me –
Power Over Sins.
Wisdom of the Spirit,
Redemption,
Love without limit
AND
Life through His death on that Tree.
- On the…
Life everlasting…
- On the…
Heart & body healing…
- On the…
All sins forgiving…
- On the…
New life transforming…
- On the…
Heart with God uniting…
- On the…
Soul fully cleansing…
- On the…
Purpose and meaning…
And don’t forget the chocolate!
Day 13 & 14 combined – Forget-me-not
(Day 13 NaPoWriMo) was
‘to play with rhyme. Start by creating a “word bank” of ten simple words. They should only have one or two syllables apiece. Five should correspond to each of the five senses… Use your expanded word-bank, with rhymes, as the seeds for your poem. Your effort doesn’t actually have to rhyme in the sense of having each line end with a rhymed word, but try to use as much soundplay in your poem as possible..’
I had a house full of visitors this weekend, so I had no opportunity to do all of Day 13’s challenge. However, I did think of 5 ‘sense’ words and 3 of my young guests, helped generate a selection of rhymes.
I decided to use the rhymes we generated yesterday, in combination with today’s challenge (Day 14), which is to
‘write a poem of at least ten lines in which each line begins with the same word (e.g., “Because,” “Forget,” “Not,” “If”). This technique of beginning multiple lines with the same word or phrase is called anaphora, and has long been used to give poems a driving rhythm and/or a sense of puzzlebox mystery.’
April 13th is my late mother’s birthday, and, inspired by a garden full of forget-me-nots, which were her favourite bloom, (until dementia robbed her of that too), I composed this.
Forget me not
Forget-me-not when you replay the sight
of what might have been our plight
that bright night
when in our minds’ eye was only the light
of what looked like danger,
but seemingly
was alright.
Forget-me-not when you talk and shout
about all our doubts
in whispered confessions of trust
and how we announced from roof-tops aloud
that the faith we espoused
in the cacophony, at times, was reduced
to nought.
And forget-me-not when taste-buds are tingled
by shots of sweet and even your feet
savour the delicate flavours
of when we chanced to meet and eat
by the white sands, quite replete,
until all our joy
was complete.
And forget-me-not when the fragrance evokes
the smoke from our one last toke
and how all our senses were awoken
and in bliss we would joke
and soak in the delicious evening
until the mesmerising spell
was broken.
As all your senses, cells and members
remember
triggering the memories
of times and places,
sights and sounds
scents and flavours;
promise me-
that you’ll forget-me-not
when it’s all too tough
and you’ve had enough of missing the hugs,
of missing the laughs and the sharing of us.
When you want to snuff out the grief
and move on and forget
all that stuff.
Please move on
but forget-me-not.
Day 15
#NaPoWriMo And now for our prompt – optional, as always! Today, we’d like to encourage you to take a look at @StampsBot, and become inspired by the wide, wonderful, and sometimes wacky world of postage stamps.
Moomintroll is off abroad
stepping stones with mind absorbed;
He has his heart set on a goal
to go to places unexplored.
Brave adventure is his quest
This was his Snorkmaiden’s request.
And go they will, but they’ll come back
to Moominvalley, where they’re blessed.
And when they’ve gone, he’ll stamp and send
to all their Finnish Moomin friends
a note to say he loves them all
and stepping stones, he recommends.
Day 16
Day 16
Today, we challenge you to write a poem in which you closely describe an object or place, and then end with a much more abstract line that doesn’t seemingly have anything to do with that object or place, but which, of course, really does. The “surprise” ending to this James Wright poem is a good illustration of the effect we’re hoping you’ll achieve. An abstract, philosophical kind of statement closing out a poem that is otherwise intensely focused on physical, sensory details
‘Welcome!’ smile the greetings
in joyful amber glowing;
behind, a broad escalier glides away
into balustrades parading
smoothly carved limbs
of warm marble.
Just as all colours become white,
so, brilliantly iridescent bright
breathed a universe of beauty and music
into simplicity of being.
Graciously invited to glimpse into my own space
created generously to accommodate
and celebrate
all that is me.
I gaze at the lavishness
of a dream I never dared
yet long to explore.
It was home;
and one day
I’ll come to stay
for-ever-more.
Day 17
The Power of Love, or Barcarolle
Day 17
Last but not least, here’s our optional prompt for the day. Today, we’d like to challenge you to write a poem that is inspired by a piece of music, and that shares its title with that piece of music.
This poem went a bit to the winds.
I began thinking of the song ‘The Power of Love’, a Song by Frankie Goes To Hollywood.
Then I thought of the song, and the film, ‘When a Man Loves a Woman’ – the song originally by Percy Sledge and the film (1994) Directed by Luis Mandoki and starring Andy Garcia and Meg Ryan, as a recovering alcoholic.
That film is meaningful to me, but then I thought of one of my all-time favourite films – ‘Life is Beautiful’ and began to rock to the romantic melody of Barcarolle (by Jacques Offenbach) . ‘Life is Beautiful’ is a 1997 Italian comedy-drama film directed by and starring Roberto Benigni.
So here goes.
The Power of Love, or Barcarolle
‘The Power of Love
a force from above’.
Aren’t all songs written
about love?
Doesn’t all love hail
from above?
There’s a song with a power
and a pathos and story
‘When a Man loves a Woman’
is a song that I knew
and a film that I saw
and love won.
So many songs about romantic love,
familial love,
sacrificial, powerful love.
The songs are stories.
The stories are true.
Love is true.
The most powerful love in a story I know,
in a song and a film,
of a man and woman and son,
is the story of Guido.
Guido is true;
His story is true.
Guido knew that Life is Beautiful
so he was beautiful
and he saw that she was beautiful.
They saw the opera one night –
Imagine the gondoliers
movements strong and movements weak
like human hearts.
Her heart was moved
her soul transfixed
and spellbound by Barcarolle.
And he loved her and wooed her
His love was true.
But their life was built on love
and they bore a beautiful son.
Life was changing,
It is always changing,
but the music didn’t.
War persuaded people to fight the enemy
though they didn’t know who they were.
In a concentration camp,
Guido’s love
for his son and his lady and life
empowered his all
the best of humanity to take a selfless risk;
Then, out of the relentless despair
Love sways through the night,
sweeps into the lifeless bricks
where she waits
and breathes it’s stringed melody of love,
expanding the air with hope,
strengthening courage,
perseverance rekindled.
Imagine the gondoliers
movements strong and movements weak
like human hearts –
Her heart was moved,
her soul transfixed;
Love is empowered.
Love communicated in the pit.
To live, or not to die,
to forego the jam sandwiches,
persevere in love
and win the competition;
Yes,
Love won a tank!
Love always wins.
Love never fails.
Day 18
NaPoWriMo prompt: Today, we’d like to challenge you to write a poem in which the speaker expresses the desire to be someone or something else, and explains why. Two possible models for you: Natasha Rao’s “In my next life let me be a tomato,” and Randall Jarrell’s “The Woman at the Washington Zoo.”
Day 18 – Anyone other than me
Once upon a fairy-time
there was me with an innocence dream;
And if you asked me then what I’d like
I’d choose to be a hero or a queen.
Later in my fractured teens
being loved was all that mattered;
hunting for my perfect groom
till the dreams were all in tatters.
If you had asked me at that time,
who I would like to be,
I’d say I’ll be whoever
you desire me to be!
I wanted you to rescue me
and let me rescue you;
To heal us of our broken hearts
and pull each other through.
But I grew out of fairy-tales
and grew to love myself;
I realised that God made me
– slugs and snails and puppy dogs tails –
and loves me as I am.
So if you ask me now again
of what I’d like to be;
I’d say there’s lots of things I’d like
to add to being me.
I’d like to be that writer
who’d know how to do the stuff
of imagining me as someone else
(or even a tomato)
and creating a marvellous fantasy
(or even a sonata).
I’d like to do the best I can
to love more, play more,
listen and to pray more.
To be my bestest me more.
But now I have my family
Who would I rather be,
except Nana D and mother,
or anybody other
than ME?
Day 19 – A lonely haunt
NaPoWriMo prompt: What are you haunted by, or what haunts you? Write a poem responding to this question. Then change the word haunt to hunt.
I’m not haunted by anything, except possibly the possibility of regret. I would hate to find myself regretting something I’d done or not done and now can never put right.
Maybe this is why Christ’s forgiveness, and mandate of such, is so all-important, central to me?
FMF prompt word: LONELY.
I won’t do another FMF, but will write a Haiku to link haunt and lonely.
Haiku 1
I think the only
thing that could ever haunt me –
if you were lonely.
Haiku 2
Many are my fears
but the one that would haunt me –
my lack of courage.
Haiku 3 – inspired by Martin Niemöller’s famous and important words
I will speak speak for you
when you face persecution.
Will you speak for me?
Haiku 4
To not hear the words
‘Well done good, faithful servant’ –
on reaching heaven.
Haiku 5
Haunted or hunted,
they would never come for me.
I’ve nothing they want!
Haiku 6
To sum this all up
about what would haunt me most –
t’is to have regret.
NB: To see other responses to this FMF prompt, LONELY, see below
Read Prasanta’s post and join the link-up here
Day 20
NaPoWriMo prompt: to write a poem that recounts a historical event. In writing your poem, you could draw on your memory, encyclopedias, history books, or primary documents.
Day 20 – Whose story?
Information’s rather scarce
the deeper we delve back
carbon dating gives some clues
but details we lack.
Moving to the written word
and records of some facts
helps us to begin to picture
how peoples thought and act.
So browsing through these archives
of history as we know it
how would I pick an era
to regale a budding poet?
So may stories written down
some were in the news –
Romans, Saxons, Tudor times
how am I gonna choose?
But I was born in sixty-five
and in history books I read
I see photos from my life
so I have to concede –
that I’M a piece of history
and as a primary source
not of his-story, but my story
I’m an expert, of course!
Day 21
NaPoWriMo prompt: Today, we’d like to challenge you to write a poem that repeats or focuses on a single colour.
Golden
Crowns, coin and candlesticks
bangles, bells and bling;
crowns and rings,
fit for Kings
festooned with golden things.
But all that glitters is not gold
is what we’re told
so come behold
a blessing not withheld
from sons and daughters of the King.
A field of corn before the harvest
invested love and sun-kissed skin
reaping sheaves
of autumn glory
holding honeyed hues within.
Old and gold the years enriched
the cracks kintsugi painted
the golden lines
embossed so fine
they never shall be tainted.
So late into our golden years
from amber dawn to gilded glow
purified in winter’s flames
the blazing sun shall curtsy low
in silent applause.
Day 22
NaPoWriMo prompt: The idea is to write a poem in which two things have a fight. Two very unlikely things, if you can manage it. Or perhaps your two things could be linked somehow – like a rock and a hard place – and be utterly sick of being so joined.
Battle of heart and mind
Scrap! Scrap!
Snide bickering feelings
concealing resentment;
a critical poke
rubbing in the lies
heart doubts –
did you really say that?
Scrap! Scrap!
Heart and mind friction
subtly –
Why can’t you be kind?
It’s all-out war!
Mind, I know it’s true,
I think…
Think, think…
What if?
Let the head choose
Forgive
Love
It’s the right thing to do.
Scrap! Scrap!
You’re not to be trusted
Nowhere is safe –
Poison is choking –
Don’t be vulnerable!
Heart, hide again.
Scrap! Scrap!
Knock down the walls,
He keeps His word.
Come out!
Soften up
and give Him your heart
You can trust Him.
Shalom.
Day 23
NaPoWriMo prompt: And now for our (optional) prompt. Today, we’d like to challenge you to write a poem about, or involving, a superhero, taking your inspiration from these four poems in which Lucille Clifton addresses Clark Kent/Superman.
Born to be heroes
We are born to be heroes
All precious pearls
As kids we all know
we CAN change the world
My first son was superman
He had the whole suit
and a heart for adventure
for rescue and pursuit.
The second was Buzz Lightyear
with the flashing and the style
He had greatness in his purpose
the cunning and the smile.
They were powerful and mighty
invincible and strong
with these it wasn’t likely
that anything could go wrong!
My boys are both grown up now
and they’ve outgrown their suits
but they still are my heroes
in much bigger boots.
And now I have grandchildren
who have followed the same course
he’s a Spidey or a Ninja
and she’s a princess with force.
They too are my heroes
adding joy and delight
They’ll always be super
for the rest of their lives.
But we are all heroes
superbly designed
masterpieces of grace
to bless all of mankind;
Princes and princesses
each destined with a place
of greatness and power
with His magnificent grace.
We are born to be heroes
All precious pearls
As people we should know
we CAN change the world.
Day 24
Day 24 – ‘You are old’
NaPoWriMo prompt: Today, we’d like to challenge you to write a poem that begins with a line from another poem (not necessarily the first one), but then goes elsewhere with it. This will work best if you just start with a line of poetry you remember, but without looking up the whole original poem.
My time is short and rushed and so is this poetic response.
It is the first poem that came into my head, that I always loved – I hope you can recognise the original from the rhythm.
‘You are old, Nana D’, young Caleb mused,
‘So why are you playing with toys?
‘It’s alright for us, as we are excused,
‘But that Lego is meant for us boys!’
‘When I was small’, I simply replied to the lad,
‘Lego didn’t exist.
‘So I played in the trees, which was all that I had;
now the Lego I just can’t resist!’
Day 25
Today, we’d like to challenge you to write a poem based on the “Proust Questionnaire,” a set of questions drawn from Victorian-era parlor games, and adapted by modern interviewers. You could choose to answer the whole questionnaire, and then write a poem based on your answers, answer just a few, or just write a poem that’s based on the questions.
I’m cheating today, as I have no time to stop and be creative, but I recall a poem I wrote 9 years ago, in which the me of that time answers a lot of those questions.
The poem is very raw and honest.
I’m happy to say that much of this is now truly healed.
Pain
Physical pain of bitter, constant cold, hunger,
slaps, canes and beatings
Fear, terror of these – fear of annihilation, fear of pain.
Fear of death, knives and guns
Unpredictable,
threatening,
lurking
– a Russian roulette..
Fear of emotional pain, emotional torture
Cos it’s all my fault.
I am bad, wrong, a burden
I owe them,
I must repay and make it better
But I cannot –
I’m not good enough, big enough, strong enough or clever enough.
Lonely, empty, lost and afraid,
wandering, day-dreaming, alone.
Looking for comfort, for friendship, for warmth, safety, acceptance…
I need to escape, to hide, to somehow survive and get away –
but where to?
I focus on the beauty around me
Beauty of amazing, glorious mystery
Creation – so delicate, vulnerable, persistent and powerful –
A gift into my emptiness.
I love the world and all of creation.
I want to love and to serve
I seek to rescue those in pain
to come alongside, help and hold them.
I am blessed with friends, family and God –
without them I would be long since destroyed!
But I am still so desperately lonely, cold, empty, small and afraid.
I escaped the physical pain,
but the bruises and scars remain
Tender, whilst the taste and strength of fear still paralyse.
Daily I hear the echo of lies and labels
How long will I let them define who I am and who I can be?
Busyness fills some of the emptiness –
work, relationships, learning, doing
doing, doing…
Big Dawn can do some of this, she can wear this mask for a while,
As long as she hides and does as she’s told.
Being hurts, so I kill the pain.
A bottle or two of Shiraz, a pint or 10 of ale –
it lessens the crippling fear as darkness falls,
it drowns the mocking voices,
dulls the heart pain,
chases the memories,
rebukes those stupid, dangerous tears
and lets me dance and live…
Or does it?
Was it me I was trying to kill?
Kill the ‘good for nothing’ Dawn?
They can’t blame me if I’m dead.
They can’t hurt me if I’m gone,
gone to where every tear is wiped away and pain is no more.
The anaesthetic has worn off now and I feel it all…
raw.
No wine to ease the pain of feeling,
no husband to distract and hold my body,
no work to busy my mind…
But I am holding to the promise:
‘plans to prosper you, to give you hope and a future’*
I have support in place,
I have all I need –
now it is time to do the work!
I will employ Ms Haynes to help my little girl –
she will guide, hold and encourage both little D and mummy D
She can care for us and keep us safe
She can put her knowledge and experience to good use
She will draw on Wisdom, Truth and common sense..
Jesus, You were so sad as to death,
but You did the work.
You know how I feel –
And you love me despite my fear and mess.
I invite You again to enter the space I have made for you
to fill my emptiness
I ask You to heal my brokenness and pain
to give me ‘beauty for ashes;
joy instead of mourning;
praise instead of heaviness’ *
and to exchange the fear for the miraculous power of Your LOVE.
I choose to let go of fear, of the past, of darkness
I lay hold of forgiveness, healing and life
I welcome Grace and Mercy
and I choose to share them wherever you take me..
– 6 weeks without alcohol at age 50. (12/04/2015) * Jer. 29:11; Isaiah 61:3
Day 26 –
Alliteration
Up with an early alarm
at unearthly O’clock
anxious about arriving
a l’heure for the Express.
The coach comes quick enough
comforting the crowd
Can I find a cosy corner
to catch a nap if it’s allowed.
The airport’s fully buzzing,
as I’m checking in with Wizz
everywhere is busy
and bustling with kids.
The flight feels familiar
I’ve flown this way before
feet finally on foreign soil
to find my friend at the door.
Day 27 – American sonnet
Beauty beholden
What beauty has my heart beholden today?
Contoured horizons of fir rich hills,
Baby-green flora in budding Spring growth
and the giggles of families out in sun-kissed April.
The beauty of frescoes on medieval church walls,
The fragrance of hawthorn and freshly mown grass,
The joy of reunion in the eyes of an old friend
and the panoramic view of an orange sun sinking through a peach-melba sky.
The beauty of meeting a stranger’s selfless heart
and the wonder of understanding when trust fills its part.
And what beauty beheld my eyes at the close of this glorious day?
A platter of tasty delicacies to welcome this hungry traveler.
Day 28 – A sijo
April
How I love the month of April,
As Spring explodes and wakes from sleep;
Days get longer, blossoms linger,
Coo at ducklings and baby sheep.
Easter heralds this New Life story,
When Christ is raised now in glory.
Day 29 – Eulogy
A sijo eulogy
You are uniquely and specially made in my likeness,
I love how you persevere in hope and loving kindness
And I long for you, my precious child, always to be in my presence.
Love from Father God.
Day 30
Napowrimo prompt: to write a poem where the speaker identifies with, or compares to, a character from a myth or legend.
Maid Marian
Nottingham is my home city,
So it really would be a pity,
Not to choose Robin Hood
And from what’s understood,
To compose a fantasy ditty.
Maid Marian I would be,
Playing in the old oak tree;
He’d shoot from his bow
and I’d have a go;
But no one would dare shoot at me.
From the rich, money we’d steal,
Then we’d give all the hungry a meal;
With the poor we would share
and as outlaws we’d dare
Even if threatened with jail.
That’s all folks, for 2024.
Thank you for reading and commenting so kindly.
dawnfanshawe 
Love the haiku! ;)
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YAY! Thank you!
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