Give with a glad heart…

I watched a film this weekend that has left an indelible imprint on my mind. I wept in places as I watched and the story made my heart and soul bleed, partly because of the kindness demonstrated by the one character for the other but also partly for the complete lack of humanity and kindness shown by others in the same instance. The film was called I Daniel Blake.

I cried because of the injustice, I cried because I had felt those things this year too, I cried for the mother’s love of her children and for how she had gone without to ensure her children were well. I cried for the kindness of the old man for helping the family despite his own hardship and loss. I cried mostly for a society that seems to have forgotten how important kindness is. I cried because in my desperate hours of need I have been given kindess. I cried because even in my own desperate hours of need, my needs will have been far less significant than the needs of many others who probably also needed kindness.

Give with a glad heart.

Expect nothing in return

Kindness warms, ice melts.

 

©Alison Jean Hankinson

This is for d’Verse Haibun monday. The birds are just because….I feed the birds…all birds…big ones, little ones, brown ones, white ones….The seagull on the roof has a gammy leg…he still survives…

 

Service announcement….in the half term break…

“Service announcement- Warehouse colleagues to the warehouse please.”

 

All the jobs I could have done

This one sounds like so much fun

Making announcements in a store

Calling to workers on the shop floor.

 

Instead I write reports and mark

Plan my lessons until it is dark

My life is ruled by lessons and bells

Punctuated by rogues and ne-er do wells.

 

I wouldn’t want to be a zoo-keeper

A nurse, doctor or cabinet maker

I often dream of what might be

Acting in Coronation Street might suit me.

 

Instead I create my schemes of work

Make presentations that sometimes work

I smile with joy when students succeed

In our tough teens I still believe.

 

©Alison Jean Hankinson

JUST FOR FUN. XX

 

 

 

Leaving it all behind…

There are days when the tragedy of life is too great to bear

When win some, lose some just won’t cut the mustard.

Winsome-wearied, weathered and worn

 

She hailed a taxi.

Time to get the hell out of this hateful hole

Before it swallowed her whole.

 

Bright skies before her, burning sun

Radiant beauty of migrant birds in flight-heading for a warmer winter shore.

Leaving was the answer of this she was sure.

 

©Alison Jean Hankinson

This painting from Artistic Interpretations at imaginary garden with real toads. I think this one reminds me of the place she was leaving.

 

 

 

What am I?

A nagging doubt

As my footsteps dulcet echo across the darkened dismal cobbles of a dreary street

Dutiful.

 

A whisper of solace

As our lives we share, and you weep and ache with despair

Comforter.

 

A cacophony of cheeriness

As we stride with gusto into growing uncertainty

Supporter.

 

A melancholy melody of metamorphosis

As I struggle to flutter and fly, reaching for the stars in the sky and knowing that I

wore the mask of the chameleon.

 

A rich and colourful cadenza of congeniality

As I reminisce and retreat

Into my own colourless void.

 

© Alison Jean Hankinson

 

This if for poetics at d’Verse.

The image was labelled for reuse and was in the public domain- wikimedia-

By Nic McPhee from Morris, MN, USA (Corn and sunflower (butterfly is optional)) [CC BY-SA 2.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)%5D, via Wikimedia Commons

The Journey Home.

The Sea washes over me

I am lost in yearning

For a time, tide and place

A space of belonging

That once I called home.

 

Far away dreams

Distant foreshores

Mellow memories of love

As the spirits guide me

On my long journey home.

 

© Alison Jean Hankinson

This is for the Tuesday platform at imaginary garden with real toads.

 

Visiting time.

It is a moment shared

Amid the peace and quiet

Of a drizzly afternoon.

 

No need to talk anymore

Our words and thoughts are feathers

Floating on the breeze

 

A smile, a nod to show we care

A hand held here

Love’s conversation needs.

 

© Alison Jean Hankinson.

The image is my great grandfather John Henry Mcclenan- he was in the military hospital.

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To a wild rose……

Bramble Berry

Crabapple jelly

Michaelmas daisies

Just for show.

 

Radiant roses revived

Through storms survived

Whilst rosehips scattered

On the ground below.

 

A sliver of sun flitters through the clouds.

 

©Alison Jean Hankinson

This is for Weekend Mini-Challenge at imaginary garden with real toads

P1060430