Take away your miracle balms I quite like the flap of my arms Be gone with your pills and potions Your empty age defying lotions I quite like the way my neck creases Like a beautiful timeless scarf that pleases Don’t need my eyes lifted sky high They will close permanently when I die I’m … Continue reading Poisoned Chalice
Category: Poetry
Unborn
Silently conceivedIn a bed of sinNever breathedNo life to live inMistakenly grievedBut not for himGuilty secrets weavedTo save his skinGone & freedBefore her life beginsSadly bereavedMy choices slimNo life to leaveStill, I carry you withinMy daughter freedAlways remembering.
Good Friday Lay-by
Salient sigh in the busy lay-by where the bus brakes & harboured dreams wake at night to take flight to hotel doors, and bedroom floors where dark desire is declared a liar, hunger growing where wine is flowing our fall from grace to that wondrous place where we part the heart of our distant urge … Continue reading Good Friday Lay-by
March
When March cameIt whispered, let’s do it againAnd with spring in the airBoy, did we dareIt blossomed once morePink petals on the floorLike the confetti that scatteredIn the years we were shatteredBut it bloomed with the sunWarmth brought back the fun
Rebirth
Your spirit died in ecstasy & that, my love, was my legacy, for although your soul runs empty, your will is full of plenty, the attic lies full of memory, in your imagination’s cemetery, come, come with me, the ghost of all you could be. https://videopress.com/v/3um5Bvhc?resizeToParent=true&cover=true&preloadContent=metadata&useAverageColor=true
“Good Morning”
The ambience of the autumn morning, the golden blush of misty dawning, the quiet stretch of idle yawning, the gentle purr of the kitten pawing, the delicious depth of coffee pouring, the aroma soaring, sitting quietly under the garden awning.
Yes
Yes to all that, to the moon & back, for my forever friend, with no beginning & end, yes to all the bad times & the sparking love and hate crimes, the romance fraud that I applaud, I say yes to that all coming back, the fire & verse that I now lack, it’s never … Continue reading Yes
Home
They say it’s where the heart lives, but home is just the wreckage, of all the life you danced with, doors closed on all the courage, loft full of all the baggage, fate sealed in windows blinded, kitchen neat & tidied, sink full of dirty dishes hiding, four walls a prison crying.
Memories
The years and years of souvenirs, the memory’s lapse of time’s collapse,the remember whens and let’s pretends, postcards, fridge magnets, tea towel gems, pictures framed in paper lens, flowers pressed between poetry pages, the little reminders of love through the ages.
Pre-Loved
I am pre-lovedFrayed at the edgesA worn gloveAncient 70s wedges I’m on the shelfSecond hand merchCheaper than wealthYour vintage search You’ll remember meAnd all that I amWhen everything was freeAnd life was quite glam Step back in timeAll was not lostI’m in my primeNow I’m low cost Poetry Gal
That dress I wore
I woreThat dressThe oneI keptFor best The silkAnd laceThat justSwoonedWith grace The soft& slowTying ofTheBow I sayAmenFor thatTailoredHem I knowI can slipRight outOf thatZip My favouriteDress codeScreamsA laMode The beautyI cossetHangsIn the back of myCloset
Down memory lane
Truth is, with the sun out & the blooms bursting again, I wanted to take a trip down memory lane, no shame, get up and get ready, take it nice and steady, top down, music on, looking forward to wine, no plans, no timescales, beautiful surroundings, just to be close by, for a few hours, … Continue reading Down memory lane
Mags Winthrop Blog 