Whisper lass.

She was tip-toe soft,

kind words and whisper slippers

mid-winter moccasins.

treading cautiously through a world of steel toe-capped hobnailed boots.

 

Soft-shoe shuffling quietly amidst the stomping and the striding

Reminiscent of dreamlike dawdle at dusk.

She was tip-toe soft, compassion and comfort

Her steps could caress the conscience of even the sturdiest stiff leather loafer.

 

She was tiptoe soft

Lambswool laughter

words of wisdom suede-like

midwinter moccasins.

 

© Alison Jean Hankinson

 

So tonight at d’Verse Bjorn challenged us to write with metaphor in mind. I also wanted to use sounds, and I am not sure if I have mastered this or not, but I gave it a go.

Sing a song of ninepence.

Sing a song of ninepence,

we’re all going to die

Mummy caught the budgerigar

and baked it in a pie.

 

Whilst the pie was cooking,

she made the kitchen clean

and served it up for dinner

with custard and ice cream.

 

Dad was in the garden shed

Sharpening his tools

The kids were in the bedroom

Polishing their shoes.

 

The cat was in the dining room

and stealthily- I kid you not

Upon the table it did leap

and stole the blooming lot.

 

© Alison Jean Hankinson

 

So for d’verse poetics we were challenged to write a Kafka-esque children’s rhyme????? Oh my.

I chose this phrase for inspiration-

I am a cage, in search of a bird

Pakaru

For a tiny while I was extinct.

Kaput, derailed, unhinged and pakaru.

Afraid that the slightest breeze might sink me.

I lost all grace, all meaning, all love of life.

The empty skin where my laughter used to rise

Fluttered lifeless in the wind.

 

© Alison Jean Hankinson

this is for d’verse quadrille. the word this week was extinct.

The image is my own, it is a Westerley Pentland near Glasson Dock earlier this year, it seems abandoned. At the time I was struggling with my own dereliction. It broke my heart seeing it like this, as my Dad had one just the same and we spent many happy times aboard, Dad’s Pentland was called Tolivar.

Brighouse Bay

Over the stones

we stumbled

eager to race the tide,

the last rays of summer scorching the sand between our toes.

 

Tiny crab

hermit hides

beneath the sodden shells

tidal drift and rock pool teems with life.

 

Brighouse Bay

Sunset lingers

Last days of summer languish,

this moment frozen forever in time.

© Alison Jean Hankinson

I thought I had it sussed but you don’t know what you don’t know.

Sometimes your life can change in a second. A split second.

FAITH that which anchors us.

There you are swimming along, taking in the scenery, drinking in the wonderful aroma of a rich fulfilling life, clear in the knowledge of who you are, where you are at and where you are heading for and then BOOM.

A split second, no time to weigh things up, stack odds against likelihoods decide on the most suitable path forward and … Just BOOM.

FAITH that which anchors us.

In computer games, it is the moment when the screen says Game Over. You lost your final life, it wasn’t planned, it was some sneaky attack from nowhere, a slight slip of the thumb and the computer registered an 8 instead of a 7 and BOOM- game over. It wasn’t even intentional.

It is likely to be your own fault, a lapse in concentration, a misguided loyalty, a misunderstanding, too much haste in a too pressured job and that is it. Wiped out in a nanosecond. No insanity plea, no curtain call, just fingers gripping the edge hoping that you won’t fall, just silent prayers to an overworked God asking for forgiveness.

If you are lucky and your prayers are answered you will live to fight another day. You will be thankful, and kinder and maybe wiser and certainly more careful. You will always know and understand that everything can and does change in a split second for good or bad, better or worse and you will always know that the split-second can be at any moment in your life-that it is unlikely to have been planned, or heralded by omens and signs. Just BOOM.

FAITH that which anchors us.

© Alison Jean Hankinson