Tuesday, 14 June 2011
The house was empty when she left her safe haven, rooms left lifeless and silent. There was nothing to do, nothing left to say. She had told everyone around her to go, she didn’t need them; they didn’t want her either. She was just a lonely woman, with a tear stained face in the dark.
I did it
I have rid myself of you from my life
I know you may actually love me
And some how in your strange way care about me
Yet through all this I am not going to stay
I’ve left; I’ve gone.
I’m not going to hang around for you to come to your senses
Why should I?
I could fill this page with hateful stabbing words
But why, why waste my energy on someone like you?
I walked through the park on Monday,
Each step I was letting you go.
An angel came to me that day,
Its gentle hand helping me to move on,
I tied a ribbon to a tree,
With a wish for you
I wished for you to be happy and maybe find a love you deserve.
From that day
I have not looked back.
If you ever should read this
Yet that is very unlikely
I would have you know that through all this,
I won’t shut you out of my life
I just will never go back to being your lover.
Saturday, 14 May 2011
Defences surround a tall stone keep
Archers stand ready at the outer wall
Standing by to repel any attacker
Heavy gates stay closed
Inside the walls
Long halls filled with priceless treasures
Lush gardens filled with growth
Quiet alleyways to escape and hide
Nothing moves all is still
A large stone keep stands silent
A frightened lady sits in the great hall
The dungon cells locking unwanted memories away from view
Keys lost to only her
A castle, always cold, always silent.
Sunday, 31 October 2010
It is the time of year when we remember
Remember the fallen
People we have loved and lost
Those who have moved on to the light
The owl is my reminder of those loved and lost
He flies at twilight between day and night
The living and the dead
It does not scare me all this
I do not fear my loved ones coming back to visit
Coming back to stroke my hair when I can’t sleep
Showing that they still love through the veil
I carry the memories with me
Concorde, teaching me to use a camera,
The fish pond, peeling the vegetables in the living room for dinner
The strength and love I will carry for all my life
Monday, 9 August 2010
I help to teach young women skills to become a strong person in society
To volunteer my time
The rewards are immense.
I’ve been a Brownie
The trips out, brownie rambles
Winning the Rosebowl was a lot of fun
I remember flying up Guides, a happy and sad day
I enjoyed Guides
I loved the camping, sleeping under canvas. Marshmallows!
Completing the Aircraft badge, second person in my packs history
I met my best friend at guides and we are still friends
Adult leader qualification was daunting at first
Completing it felt fantastic
But making my young leader promise
Is one of my treasured memories
I’m currently a Girl Guiding Assistant Brownie Guider
Funnily enough at the same pack where I was a brownie my self
I’ve been told it’s respectful
Thing is I don’t think I could have gone anywhere else
Girl Guiding is 100 years old this year
It make me feel proud to be part of it
I’ve been a brownie for nearly 19 years
And still live by the Brownie Motto
“A Brownie thinks of others before herself and does a good turn every day”
Thursday, 22 July 2010
We arrive at around 9.30 and join the queue to gain entrance to the grounds, a strange welcoming emits from the buildings; drawing you in and making you feel safe. We park; unload what we need and head for the stalls and breakfast. Monuments on either side stand proudly; testaments to their legends, to one side are small aircraft, all lined up; each one shining clearly in the morning sun. It still astounds me each time I visit the amazing sense of time this place have, no matter what year it may be, it will never loose that wartime feeling; I must say Glen Miller does help matters. I look at the row of planes and this is what I see.
There are groups of planes on the ground, mechanics are working at their respective planes, the pilots are sitting by the huts; waiting, waiting for that siren, the siren that will once again take them up into the skies. Some are playing cards or reading, others writing that letter home, they have been meaning to do for a while, some are just sleeping. There is silence, accept that of the wind through the trees, or the sounds of footsteps of the airfield personnel. The phone rings, ears and eyes turn to the hut. “SCRAMBLE SCRAMBLE, SCRAMBLE” the captain shouts, the pilots run to their planes, the sound of silence is broken by the claxon screams and the roar of a squadron of Rolls Royce Merlin engines. Orders are being screamed from plane to plane; the hood goes down; and they’re off. The control tower becomes a hive of activity, information is passed from all corners of the airfield, the airspeed climbs as they leave the runway; in this moment both aircraft and pilot merge into one. It has always been said that flying a Spitfire was an easy job. After numerous bullets are used and dog fighting skills put to the test, the weary planes and pilots return back to the silence of RAF Duxford.
And then it’s gone and the modern day returns around me, the hustle and bustle of an airshow day. ‘Moonlight Serenade’ is playing over the speaker system; I know that 1940 can’t be too far away.
It’s not scary anymore
Not now the vampires have found the glitter.
It’s an obsession for some believe they are real
Leaving a window open for the undead dream
To sweep them off their feet.
But who would want to sleep with a cold marble man?
The Werewolf is a strange beast,
As old as its cold foe.
Even this has become soft, a children’s toy as it were.
Gone is the swipe or cut
For the dreaded curse to take effect.
A piercing howl no longer frightens me
The lure is there
No matter how hard I try to ignore.
The dream of perfection blended with a supernatural beau.
As for me … I’d be a wolf.