YeahWrite Fiction|Poetry #458 – I Wonder

Sometimes
I wonder
What I would say
To my younger self

I could lie
But
What is false hope
From a face
Just recognisable
But not quite my own

I wonder
If just maybe
I could help her
Find me
Earlier

I am much better now
Not much more
But enough

And better
Could be enough
For her to hope

I wonder
Though
If I told her then
What I become
That I would not
Become me
At all

I would erase
All that I could become
All that should be
Just to help her

Should better be enough
For now
I wonder
And
Is that same better
Enough for later
Too

Will I soon ponder
This same question
Again
Will I deliberate
On whether much better
Would be enough
For Me to hope
Too

Will I meet them
Now
To unravel a future
I should not yet know

I wonder
Then
Could I rely
Time and time again
On knowing better
Can be better still

Could that be hope?

For now
For then
For later
Too


Written for this weeks YeahWrite Fiction | Poetry grid, I have played around with the optional technique available based on a poem by William Carlos Williams.
It was interesting playing around with that form, I am happy enough with what happened though…

Wordle #164 – The Cheat

Those who hold a pen
Can shape a world

A runaway
In a strawberry field
Or a cluster of aging trees

They’ll cheat destiny
To craft the perfect world
A perfect lie
For you

They’ll capture you,
With just the lightest touch
Or from the widest range

Swivel round
Dear friend
Before it is too late

Lest I find you
Euchred
And broken
Beyond belief

How can’t you see them?

The Mythomane
As they twist and hold
Your soul


Written for this week’s Wordle over at MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie. An interesting bunch of words this week but I am pretty proud that I managed to use them all.

YeahWrite Fiction|Poetry #457 – This Is Just To Say

I noticed
on my morning
walk

You
so sneaky

Gazing at that necklace
just to take it
as your own

I pondered
while walking
if to stop
you

Here
I am

You
must stop
or be stopped

Forgive me
you will now
be
incinerated


Written for this weeks YeahWrite Fiction | Poetry grid with the prompt ‘The main character (MC) sees someone about to commit a minor crime. Do they use their superpower or not?‘ and an optional technique to use based on a poem by William Carlos Williams.
I attempted the technique but extended it a little for my story…

Poem: Our Dearest George

A couple of days ago we had to say goodbye to our beautiful dog George. Who honestly, has been the sweetest dog in the world! We are so blessed to have had him in our lives, he will be greatly missed! ❤️

On the suggestion from my younger sister that I write something, in typical Anna style, I wrote a poem. So here goes:

I’ve never met a sweeter soul,
Than that of dear old George.
A deep strong bond with all of us,
Was one that he did forge.

I’ll tell you a story of sweetest George,
From when he was a pup.
We took him to a puppy school,
Before he could grow up.

We expected days out in the park,
Teaching him to be good.
But the way that things turned out,
He’d learnt before we could.

“This pup just wants to please you!”
Was what the trainer said.
So on day two, I’ll have you know,
We took him home instead.

This ball of fluff was playful,
He’d run and skid on tiles.
When he really wanted,
He’d leave fluffy rugs in piles.

He’d steal the empty milk bottles,
To run around the house.
Getting stuck under the couches,
Unlike a quiet mouse.

Then he’d get real sleepy,
As puppies always do.
So he’d curl up on his fluffy mat,
Then become the mat too.

There was a game we played while walking,
‘Twas much like hide and seek.
One of us ran down the path,
While one made sure he’d not peek.

We’d ask him then “Where did she go?”
So he’d run ahead with glee.
He’d run then stop then sniff around,
To ask “Where could they be?”

He’d always find us soon enough,
And jump around and bark.
For him and us observers,
This game was quite a lark.

We’d take him to the beach sometimes,
Which would usually go to plan.
He’d run along the shore with us,
Or stick his nose in the sand.

But then we would go swimming,
While he stayed on the shore.
He’d bark and whine and worry,
That we were there no more.

Sometimes then he’d swim out,
To heard us in to shore.
He’d no longer have to worry,
If we did swim no more.

Once we took him kayaking,
We thought it’d be a plus.
But he sat between us lazing back,
With the work all left to us.

Then as he got older,
He matured quite bit.
Whenever we left the house,
The front porch he’d wait and sit.

I also do remember,
When he was knocking over bins.
Sure was the more annoying,
Of the playful doggie sins.

This was a result I think,
Of him always being so good.
He’d simply skipped the rebellious stage,
Of all dogs puppyhood.

Older still he did get slower,
Our walks were not as long.
He’d sit on the back patio with us,
And listen to the evening song.

He’d follow you around the house,
And lie where you would stay.
But he never did tire of the walks,
At the start of every day.

He always was a sweetie,
There’s no question of that.
I knew he’d always listen,
When I was feeling flat.

But now it’s time,
His soul must rest.
Our Georgie boy,
You are the best.

So, dearest George,
We’ll really miss your comfort,
Your unconditional love.
You’ll always have a place in our hearts,
When you reside above.

EDIT: I just got a call from Mum saying George was actually in ‘Pre-Puppy School’ for more like 15 mins, before the woman said “George doesn’t need to be here, he will do anything you say.” So she took him home again.
Mum just wants everyone to know what a good boy he was! ❤️

Alive

Unexpected

Starting in my chest

Small
Hesitant
Bubbling

The feeling grows

Filling down
Stretching out

To tips of fingers
And tingling toes

Louder
Stronger
Brighter

Colour after colour
Bursting free
and drawing in the crowd

For me
You make me better
Than the darkness
In my mind

So,
Laughter
Thank you

For helping me be me


I wrote this as a part of one of the sessions on RYLA, along with the image above. It is one that I ended up reading aloud to the group, and because of that it is one which I hold close to my heart.

‘Notes of a Childhood’: Early Days, the Best of Times

Last semester I did a writing creative nonfiction class in which one of the tasks was to write a small response to a different prompt each week. Seeing as the semester is over I can now post this piece from week one. This week we had to write a ‘Notes of a Childhood’ poem/list. This was my take on the prompt!


At first only Me; Mummy, Daddy, and Me.
Two years of quiet and then,
Half the attention but double the fun.
I talk to Mummy’s feet now,
As my sister has her arms.

England now.
Waking up in the dark for school,
Immaculate uniforms,
Shirt, skirt, duffle coat, and a beret of sorts to boot.
Socks drying in the microwave? …socks no more.
Porridge with golden syrup – hello dentist!
Or maybe Maccas if we’re running late,
Driving those narrow, winding lanes.

Walks, so many walks.
To ‘Plaxtol Disney Land’, the ‘Sheep Walk’, and more.
If not in the garden, then what is the point?
– Grass fishing
– Hide and seek
– Tea parties with teddies
– The trampoline

Despite this,
Such endless bickering,
Sisters, hey?
Poor Mum…
When will it stop?

They read us Harry Potter each night.
My favourite part of the day!
“It’s Her-myon-e not Her-meowne!”
(Dad never really got it right; I think he meant to, just to annoy us, to make us laugh.)

Back in Australia.
We pick out Dad’s shirt, tie, and cufflinks for work each night.
Our choices perfect…
Nearly every time!
My favourite was the purple shirt, Evelyn’s the white.

I read Harry Potter myself now.
Now finished in one weekend to avoid spoilers.
Dumbledore’s death rudely revealed to me in a school assembly of 2005
…I’m still bitter about that

More walks with Mum, and now a dog,
A groodle called George,
He’s a massive softie.
Always lots of grumbling on my part,
But reluctantly happy in the end.
“That was the best walk Mum!”

First time I see Dad cry,
Part of me hopes it’s the last.
New town, two houses, separate families.

“Things can only get better!” I say to Ev, she could never cope with change.

Me however, being older, I had to.