Day: November 4, 2014

Daddy doesn’t smoke here any more

photo big specs

I am writing my autobiography.So far I’ve written just the titles of the volumes and that took me three days:

Daddy doesn’t smoke here any more.[ Early  to mid childhood]

My family and other criminals [Sibling rivalry]

Nuns are not a  jot of  fun  [School days]

Scholarship and yearnings [Hire Education]

Insane but true  [My love life]

The heart has its treasons.[My adult life]

Under the haystack. [How I became a gypsy]

Am I too cold for you ? [Age and its mysteries]

How I double crossed the quiver [ Almost dead but still very trying]

Black eyed floosie   [My medical history ]

I saw that life as we know it is just a film  but we are too close to spy the hand that turns the roller  [Nearer to death and seeing the clouds from above]

Left in the silence,trembling

Freed from her trap
Bird soared into air,and hovered
And floated, resting;
And flew higher, singing as she flew,
And higher again,
Till there was only her song,
Left in the silence,
Trembling.

Up on the wide,stump topped hill,
I felt the lark inside my heart
And heard her singing.
And flying up with her,
I saw gold sun and silver moon,
Moors of heather ,and sheep grazing
Green hills,
And shimmering lakes,
Clouds ,sun and sky in watery mirrors.
And sang ,and dipped,and dropped,
And curled
Up the blue
Bright heaven, and rested
On the wind.
All that day
I was a lark singing.

I shall always have a vision of
A bird
That flew upwards,
Rejoicing and free
Into a deep blue sky, and high
And higher
Beyond high
Into a place, beyond eye even,
But music still sending.

I wish I were back on that heathery moor,
With the nibbling sheep and the bees sweetly humming,
Hearing again
The poignant song
Of the skylark,
A prisoner,freed by a magician,
From her trap,
So happy to be free,
So wonderful to see.
Do it again,
For me.

Hurricanes of the heart

Image

When the windows shattered
And the splinters flew in
He just made for the back door
And left me
not knowing where to begin.

When the shards of glass hit me
And pierced my vulnerable skin
He was  already going
Leaving me
feeling he was an inhuman being.

When I fell down covered in glass and bleeding,
And the storm raged on,
I didn’t look round because
I knew,I knew,I knew,
I knew  he would be gone.
Gone.

Suddenly peace came,storm had quite
disappeared..
It was all over so quickly
Not as terrible as I feared.

My wounds were bad,I have to confess.
I had no bandage
Nothing with which to dress.
With an old towel I cleaned my blood
Then I lay me down
Just to have a rest.

Since that day,no storms come this way.
My wounds are healing
I have just one thing to say.
When the storm was so bad
He left me all alone…
but strangely since then
all is peace and calm.
His absence has become
almost a balm.

But I hear stories of fierce storms rising up
In towns and villages
Not too far from here, where a wandering man appears.

Seems like he’s running to get away
From some storm
But the storm’s inside him…
He gives it form

 

So when the windows crashed in

And glass flew at my face
left me all alone
In what, he thought,
was a very dangerous place.

Did he not pick me up
and carry me outside?
No,my daughter, he left me alone;
I might have died.

But since then
I lost a great burden…
And I lost a great feeling of shame.

Rise up,you women,bleeding and torn.
For on days like this,a new resolve is born.
While you live don’t accept all the blame.
Don’t live so long as I did,in fear and in shame.
Rise up and find that calm
In the eye of the storm…
On days like this
a new woman is born.

Leaves in autumn

7985150_f260

Floating like seaweed on the tide,
The final leaves of autumn glide.
The birds ride on the wind’s broad back,
They know no fear and know no lack.
The air is filled with unearned treasure.
My happy heart its wonders measure.
The clouds are deep and dark and grey
What snow storms may they fetch our way?
The sun appears and gives a glow
Of yellow to bare branches low.
Red berries bright,like summer flowers,
Decorate the holly’s natural tower.
Sharp thorns protect the smaller birds,
And from inside,their cheeps are heard.
As dusk arrives the blackbird sings,
So much sweetness nature brings.
I turn my mind from in to out,
I feel salvation for my doubts.
I know that I’m part of a whole,
And with all life I share my soul.
In this peaceful place I rest,
As with love’s eloquence I’m blessed.
There’s singing in my inner heart.
Like bees to flowers,my fears depart