Windchime

I hear your voice in the morning as you call me

Beckons me to follow you home.

Where your voice lingers.

 

I gather trinkets that are reminders of you,

A windchime, a plant pot, a word unspoken

A feather, a seashell, a stray thought.

 

©Alison Jean Hankinson

This is for Day23 of  napowrimo18

The first line is loosely taken from Country Roads, a song I hear in my head often that makes me think of my mum and dad. It will be 10 years this summer since mum passed but I still gather things that she would have liked, and I still don’t know if I gather them for her or for me. Love my family. XXXX

This is also for d’Verse quadrille and the challenge word/thought was gather.

Honey be good to me-prednisone sucks.

Yesterday was a shit day

I really felt so sad

I had my haircut and  it looked good

But the rest of the day went bad.

 

It feels like I am burdened

By the needs of others

And when I need support from them

Their love for me seems to falter.

 

I do not want too much

I simply want you all

To give a hand when I yell for help

When my world is about to fall.

 

Prednisone makes my face look fat

It takes my self-esteem away

My world becomes a pit of writhing snakes

My fears won’t blow away.

 

Sometimes I need a helping hand

To piece my world together

The moment of need is usually temporary

And doesn’t last forever.

 

So if you see me crying

In a helpless kind of way

Give me a hand and pull me up

It’s just a miserable steroid day.

 

© Alison Jean Hankinson

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Self indulgent…sorry..steroid reduction- hitting the wall…. Beryl knows….miss you my prednisone buddy…..

napowrimo18  Day 22,

 

This toxic environment…(selfishness)

What is wrong with you people-

That you stand and stare and revel in the mistakes of others?

What is wrong with you people-

That your putrid pleasure comes from the pain and suffering of another person?

 

What happened to make this a fetid fertile pit of futility

With despair and desperation dribbling down the sides of our decadent lives

Our dreams crumble and turn to dust, mere ashes of former aspirations.

Why can’t we forgive and forget and rebuild and restate

And redress the balance.

 

This toxic environment-

These wasted moments

These lonely voices

These damaged hearts.

 

I tell thee look up before it is too late.

 

© Alison Jean Hankinson

Day 21 Napowrimo2018– Enough said. The theme was narcissism.-

You are beautiful.

You are perfect just the way you are.

Every blemish is a mark of a wish or a milestone

That was part of your life and has meaning.

 

We wear our scars like jewellery

Ornate adornments of battles we have fought and sufferings we have silenced.

Loves we have lost, dreams that lay smashed at the feet of the soul-less.

 

You are perfect just the way you are-

So wear your skin with pride, it is your life’s canvas,

And your story unfolds with every step forward and every glance back towards the setting sun.

© Alison Jean Hankinson

this is for napowrimo Day 20. It is for my girls. With all my love. Mumma. XXXXX

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Banal bleatings from the bleughside.

I think I have a cold

My head feels rather hot

Whenever I blow my nose

There is yucky slime green snot.

 

It isn’t what I’d planned

For my poem and ode today

I guess I’ve made a rhyme

In a rather odious way.

 

I need to see the doctor

To put my ails on hold

Before this horrid virus

Does firmly take its toll.

 

My sinus are infected

My ears are hurting too

I think my dratted cold

May actually be the flu.

 

©Alison Jean Hankinson

All I can muster on Day 18 of Napowrimo….

Pass the tissues please…

The sinking of the Michael Griffith, Fleetwood 1953.

She set sail from Fleetwood with 13 hands on deck

The fishing trawler Michael Griffith, for Scotland her course was set.

Skipper Charles Singleton made the ship return to dock

A faulty pump valve changed their course and caused the trip to stop.

Repaired and ready to be on her way as Friday morning dawned

She put to sea in stormy winds so the journey was not prolonged.

The storm was brewing in the north and forced the tide to rise

The seas were rough, the night was long, and no-one heard her cries

The winds were wild the waves washed high up on the deck

And soon after midnight the mighty Michael Griffith floundered and became a wreck

The last message was received just eight miles south of Barra Head

Will some ship please come help us, full of water, no steam. Am helpless is what it said.

Lifeboats searched in heavy seas but no wreckage could be found

All lives were lost without a trace and in the storm they’d drowned.

 

© Alison Jean Hankinson

 

This is for Day16 of Napowrimo and is in memory of the lives lost in the storm of 1953.

The image is of Fleetwood and is from Wikimedia under CCSA licence:

Dr Neil Clifton [CC BY-SA 2.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)%5D, via Wikimedia Commons

The thirteen lives lost-

Skipper  Charles Singleton, Mate Leonard Grundy, Bosun J T Wilson, Chief engineer Harry Anderson, Second Engineer Thomas Burns, Firemen W Hargreaves and R Bodden, Deckhands J Tucker, S J Johns, J Cryson, C Murdoch and G Palin. Cook A Bidle.

 

 

 

 

 

 

In the space between……

I heard your voice

You sounded distant, a far cry in a deserted hall

Somewhere beyond the silent space that I occupy.

 

You are on the tip of my tongue

A familiar sound, an enunciated vowel

More than a cursory utterance of love.

 

In my dreams my arms reach out to embrace you.

I catch a glimpse of you as the shadows recede and the sun filters in through the shutters

But you have already left, and all I have is the empty space that you once occupied.

 

©Alison Jean Hankinson

For Day 14 of napowrimo.

With love to all. May you have peace in your hearts and compassion in your soul.