Ashes From My Past

Another little piece of me laid bare for all to read, sometimes I cannot help but let out the melancholy before it eats away at something much more valuable. So please forgive me my indulgance.

Ashes From my Past

The ash at my feet is now flaked grey and cold,

The flames are extinguished, the embers grown dull.

The whole of my life was ablaze in that pile,

Photographs, furniture, clothing all gone.

The breeze is now swirling the ash at my feet,

Forming patterns, revealing the debris beneath.

Its hard to identify what was once there,

As now its all colourless, lifeless and dead.

I should be distraught, at the loss I have suffered,

Yet I feel a renewed sense of freedom, release.

The breeze lifts the ash, in a moment its gone,

Stinging my eyes, making tears that are empty.

Subway Commute

Well rather than plug the store in todays blog, I thought I would show more of who I am.

I love to write, always have done, and poety has always been something I have been drawn to.

I wrote this poem after a trip to London, the noise, smells and proximity of a multitute of faceless people was just a little overwhelming. I am very much a ‘country mouse’ at heart and the thought of being in the big city is very daunting. I did leave me literally gasping for air!

‘Subway Commute’.

Descend the stairs and taste the grime,

the sounds and smells, are we on time?

Too many people, I feel the crush,

the hustle, hurry, noise and rush.

The carriage stands with open doors,

discarded wrappings on the floor.

Seats slashed and torn, so few to spare,

How long to wait till we get there?

The clatter of the well worn tracks,

I stare at shoes, at bags and backs.

Through tunnels, stations colours flash,

at platforms faceless people dash.

Please let me reach my station soon,

I want to leave this faceless gloom.

To leave the grime, the dull despair,

and breathe in fresh cold, welcome air.