Poem: The British Dilemma

Frost rimes the grass
Breath clouds, visible
Am I a dragon?
Or a puffing train?
I selfishly guard my mug
Hoarding the warmth
Shivering fitfully
As I remember Summer.
Life suffusing each limb
Languid, sunny days
Sipping iced tea
Revelling in golden light
But we all know -
Our truth, our reality.
Sticky skin, humming fans
It will be 'too hot'.
Still, in this chilly moment
Sweat seems preferable
Our ever-changing weather
Is rarely just right.

Poem: Boycott

He doesn't care

Somehow, that kills me

Did past failed attempts trigger this apathy?

I pour out my soul

He doesn't read a word

But he reads other authors

(It would be easier if he didn't)

This boycott is all for me… I want to scream

What is wrong with mine?

Others like it...

...Or they tell me they do

Lacking support propagates doubt

Doubt could kill me so I must endure

The question remains

What did I do wrong?

Poem: Words

Words fill the page

An attempt to catch beauty

Did it work?

Did it translate?

Can they see?

Elusive readers, beloved unknown

I want you

I dread you

I fear you

Your response provokes success or failure

I wish to be selfish

To write for myself alone

Yet… when I open up

Revealing glimpses of soul on page

Desperate hope is kindled

Perhaps it worked

Perhaps you saw

Hope enough to continue

To attempt to catch beauty

In a page of words

Poem: Look Again

Tell a story in a poem

Such an easy thing to write

First beginning then the middle

Weave until the end's in sight

Once upon a frigid morning

Prince and Knight went riding forth

Journeying to kill a Dragon

Bringing terror to the North

Appearances can be deceiving

For the beast is not their foe

In the hills an evil Wizard

Chants enchantments, causes woe

Prince and Knight suspect nothing

The Dragon is a muted slave

Who can stop the needless slaughter?

A heroine both bright and brave

But heroines are rare and precious

The kingdom is long bereft

There seems no hope for the poor Dragon

Innocent of all but theft

For the Dragon stole a trinket

From the Wizard, who now seethed

Knight and Price had found the Dragon

They stood their ground with swords unsheathed

The Dragon choked on vain attempts

To inform them of his plight

It was no use! His words were taken

They battled long into the night

The Wizard laughed inside his tower

Alone, or so he thought at first

But in the dawn he heard a footstep

"I have you now!" The stranger cursed

Long ago across the water

The Wizard had lost his way

His Mother had mourned his fall

His Sister had yet more to say

"Let him go!" She demanded

Her willow wand held aloft

"Dispel your curse, brother mine,

Or you will not enjoy the cost."

Defeated, he acquiesced

The Dragon coughed and found his voice

"Stop!" he cried to his attackers

"I really didn't have a choice!"

Heroines are rare as gemstones

But Enchantresses are often found

Righting wrongs and saving Dragons

Flying high above the ground

The Dragon lived and he begged pardon

To the village he had scared

The Price and Knight then sought the Wizard

Though for this foe they weren't prepared

But the tall tower was deserted

The Wizard's staff lay on the floor

They looked around and finally spotted

A short note pinned to the door

"Pray do not worry," said the letter

Written in a slanting hand

"The Wizard worries you no longer

I'll take him back to our own land."

I've told a story in a poem

It really wasn't hard to write

First beginning and then middle

And now I think this end is right.

Poem: Occhiolism

Occhiolism

We all know one.

They move with poise

No gesture wasted

Sitting straight and stiff

And we call it grace.

They dress in layers

Sunkissed skin ending with

Sharp lines at the wrists

And we call it modesty.

They speak softly

Well rounded words falling

Smoothly into rare gaps

And we call it shyness.

We all know one.

Sometimes, change comes

A sudden illness

A shocking accident

Upsets what we know

The tears are missing

Mourning worn by rote.

We meet a stranger

With a familiar face.

They move with freedom

Graceless abandon

Sprawled and smiling

And we hesitate.

They dress in colours

Winter pale skin bared to

Unsuspecting eyes

And we wonder.

They laugh loudly

Giggling opinions

Aired for the first time

And we suspect.

We don't know them

But we'd like to.

My Great Escape - Novel No. 2

The second novel is now complete, and I'm a lot happier with it than I was with my first novel!  I feel that this novel ticks all the boxes required for a novelist; it has a beginning, a middle and an end.  It has a protagonist who undergoes some character development.  It has a moral message for the reader, one that is hopefully cunningly hidden and not shoved in your face as you read.

It's also been proof-read by someone who is not me, which is a great relief (it also means that I get to silently blame her for any remaining spelling mistakes as I confess I didn't bother to do a final read-through before clicking the submit button).

I suspect that I should review the internal file for kindle readers as there are a lot of blank pages that are fine in a book because all the info is on the right hand page, but annoying to click through when reading an eBook.  I will get to that at some point this weekend.

Last but not least, here's the link for your viewing pleasure.  Amazon gives you the option to look inside so there's no harm in reading the first few pages, is there?

My Great Escape

Poem: Daily Grind

Morning, inbox full

Head full of cotton wool
Phone rings, what now
Emergency or stand down
Paperwork, what’s next
Managers must know best
Lunch time: relax
Reluctant to go back
3pm, the end is near
Imagination into gear
Headache, backache
To tell the truth it’s soul ache
Tomorrow is another day
But all days are the same.