Hi, I found this poem fascinating. So much of it resonated with me when I was a child lost in books pretending I could travel to new lands in the sky. I, too was encouraged in faith, but not from my father. I received very different treatment from him. This darkened my world. I looked for escape. Later, I was diagnosed with Adhd. I had been battling it for years until I was diagnosed along with my son. Still it has taken years of dark corners, flying craziness running around my head, full of ideas that have never happened. However, I did flourish in so many ways. I now embrace the good, creative, and fun side of me.
That yearning for the light in the darkness was where I resided for so long. I have found the light for myself now. At last I am more contended, even with a brain running at a pace I'm too old to manage well. 😃
Thank you for a poem that I can see is full of the struggles in life. I found that life with adhd can certainly be a lonely path. I pray that you have people around you who help you feel less alone.
Bless you
Angel
Hi Lucky, this is so beautiful. It is such a gentle and caring view of a good father, passing on knowledge in a peaceful way, and the special relationship that is so right between the father and the child. Thank you for sharing this
Hi, I thought I would come and have a look at some of your work. This was beautiful,and comforting. Isn't it good to know that there's always a hand to reach to when we lose someone we live. I recently lost my mum, however, in many ways she lost her fight a while ago. She had Alzheimers. So, this poem made me realise that I've had people there and my faith. All helping to get me through.
Bless you
Angel
Hi Jackson, I thought I would pop across and read something of yours. I was right when I said that you have a wonderful way with words. I have just lost my mum, so I understand the connection you had with yours. I am sorry for the treatment you had from your father. In our era, parents could be cruel. But, what beautiful memories you have of your childhood home. I am from the UK, so I don't recognise many of the trees or cars that you describe. However, the memories of climbing any tree and pretending to be someone powerful like Robin Hood, is familiar. We lived in an urban area. My sister and I would race each other on our bikes, pretending they were horses, up and down our quiet street. I climbed a tree once,only to figure out once I was up there that I was afraid of heights. I had to get my friends to help me down. Good memories of childhood always outweigh the bad. But, you brought your home to life for me. The terror of those yellow jackets. I was running with you. The beauty of a hummingbird I can only imagine. We don't have them here. I did once stand for half an hour just staring at a dragonfly. I had never seen one before. I have removed frogs and toads from my home after they had been eating the huge amount if slugs we had, then had become disorientated and accidentally hopped indoors. I would just pick them up and put them outside again. They would just gratefully hop away. We had chickens, so we would always have fresh eggs. So, even in an urban house, there was great scope for nature. Thank you for just touching my heart with your words. I was there with you as you watched your memories fly past. It was wonderfully written with great description and a vibrancy that I haven't read in a long time. Thanks again. Angel
Hi ya, Amethyst. I found you from a newsletter. What a beautiful way to describe the art of writing, in whatever form it is. It is always an adventure which is part what we see,and part what we've experienced.
'Guiding her characters through heartache and drama
Is her way to cope with heartbreak and trauma.'
Then it is all mixed with mountains of imagination. Writing, as you explained is a release of stress.
'Thinking deeply and fictionally about all that she knows
She handles stress creatively, striving to compose'.
I hope you continue to write, I feel there's an adventure waiting for you that you've not seen yet. I love the rhyming in your poem. I was told that rhyming is the hardest kind of poetry to write. I find it far easier than free poetry. Not everyone likes it. Thank you for sharing this, it was right up my street, so to speak!
Angel
Hi slongent, I'm quite taken aback at the power of your words. They start so gentle, but there is the warning about love in the wrong heart. And, just how quickly that love turned dark. How often do we hear of the reality off stalking, suicide, even murder because of love in the wrong heart. A very well written poem. Thank you for sharing these words of wisdom we all should heed.
Angel
Hi Heavy hearted, this is such a heartfelt poem. It is well written and well structured. The longer lines give it feeling, while the shorter ones give it impact, especially the repeating lines 'It hurts'.
I found just three very small errors, I think they are typing errors rather than errors in the poem.
'Someone they were to spend life with'
This feels as if it should say 'their life with'
'That one day she will give my the chance'
I think this should have 'me', not 'my'
And there is an extra 'the' in the last long line of the poem.
This is a poem straight from the heart and onto paper. Thank you for sharing this with us. Well done for a brilliant piece of work, from what feels like a very broken place.
Angel
Hi Choconut, thank you for a heartfelt and beautifully written piece dedicated to this wonderful lady. I am crying with you, sad along with so many. I visited my Mum in her Care Home today, thankfully many in there don't understand what's happened. But a carer said to me, one man did and burst into tears when he heard the news. My mum loved the Queen, and I know she would have been devastated, so I'm glad she isn't aware enough to realise.
I felt the same as I was travelling by train today, as you said, everything was the same, people were chatting, going about their day, but it's not the same. I watched our new King greet his people today, yesterday they were the Queen's people, today they aren't and it seems strange that the change is so immediate. The Standard Flag flew over Buckingham Palace, it never flies at half made because it flies when a Monarch is in residence and we always have a Monarch. It's all so new and so strange. We will have new money, new stamps. And for the first time today, I looked at Charles and was pleased he had Camilla by his side. But the world has just gone on turning when it felt as if it should have paused, just for a moment.
RIP Queen Elizabeth 11
Hi JCosmos, I am a Christian and I really liked your poem. I have also gone over and read some of your other published poems too. I'm intrigued by the factual aspect to your writing, alongside the Spiritual, as it should be. Faith, for those who have one, should be an integral part of their life, not something to put on show for others. Also I love that you asked the dog if he was God. People think God is so distant that He couldn't show up as a dog, but hey, why not! Great poem.
Angel
Hi Wolfkingdom, I often think about what we pass down to our children, it's a legacy far more important than money, which is what most people think of when they hear the word legacy. But, I think we give away a huge part of who we are, our knowledge, character etc, to our children, and hopefully, as you so eloquently write, it's 'Without asking for any mercy, we continue to pass on our Legacy'. We have to hope the legacy we leave behind is a positive one.
This was a very thought provoking poem, thank you.
Angel
Hi Fynwy, I do like the analogy of writing, or not writing, specifically,with the fragile leaves. We expect leaves to be a certain way at a certain time, and the same can be said of our writing. Whethe4 it's other's expectation of when something should be completed, or the pressure we put on ourselves, it can be like trying to force grow plants. It can easily go wrong and all words, like the plant, can just disappear.
I loved your the description of what a hurricane does to leaves, I didn't know that, turning new leaves to skeletons was so powerful. New writing, like new leaves, is fragile, it can so easily be crushed and at times never recover, the author also.
Thank you for this beautiful analogy, it felt so real to me, I could see it all so clearly..
Hi Kathie,I was touched by the delicate words of this poem, and what felt to me as one person helping another to repair a damaged soul. The last two lines were especially poignant for me as my sister and I went through the same very damaging experience as children, and then later, still young, both of us faced severe, but different health issues. The last two,lines of your poem reflect the difference between us, she always sees the bad around her, and rarely the good in people, whereas I'm the optimistic one who naturally tries to see the good in everyone. I am, however, very aware this isn't always the case.
The cry you put out in this poem for protection shows the person being written about has been badly hurt and has a very broken spirit. However, the whole thing runs in a positive direction, they've found someone who can help heal this broken soul and hopefully restore some of what's been lost. So beautiful
Angel
It's good to see you looking after yourself, we often spend so much time looking after others, or are busy doing things, we forget to take care of ourselves. We then breakdown, physically, mentally, or both. So, rest well, take things as easy as you can, and enjoy your semi-break. Angel
Hi Winklett, I found your poem in a newsletter and was intrigued by the title. Having been the target on so many occasions of harsh words as far back as when I was in school to times in my adult life. I discovered adults can be no better than children, which I find sad. Your poem reflects this so well. I particularly liked two lines:
Words, just like arrows, cannot be un-done
Whispers unheard can speak louder than words.
But I also like the outright, in your face start to line 6, 'shut up', a complete contrast to the whispers in the title.
Having Adhd and having a son with Add, I know how important a lesson this is to learn, mostly speaking out of turn, or saying what'son your mind with no filter. Most people learn it naturally, others have to learn it in a different, it's a much longer and often more painful journey, but, like in your poem, it is an essential lesson to learn so as not to hurt the feelings of others.
Thank you again for sharing such and important and heartfelt poem. 😺 Angel
Hi Beholden, I have to say, I do have a bit of a fear of creeping things, roots that grow too fast, ants or any other creature that might crawl by the thousand and invade. I'm not generally scared of spiders unless in a film where lots of them occur at once. Anyway, you get the picture, so, as I was reading your story, you can imagine how creeped out I was feeling at this stuff having just appeared under Harvey's sink. The thought, later of those tendrils spreading so fast and just engulfing him was just a bit too much for me.
In short, a great story, it did exactly what it was meant to do, well, I didn't scream out loud but in my head, definitely.
It was well written and just how I love a short story of this length, it left the rest up to the imagination of the reader. To me it brought up memories of the Triffids along with the Red Weed from War of the Worlds. Thank you formtaking the time to write this, well done. 😺 Angel
Hi Zeke, I do understand how this feels, I like my own company, but so many people don't really get this. I felt the pull in your poem of the world pulling me in, just like you. It's hard for people to comprehend there are people who enjoy being alone. I have to say, I do enjoy the company of some people, but even them, it can only be for a certain length of time as I get people weary. I have two children and now a grandson, I love spending time with them, but still it's only for a limited time. I don't understand people who need the constant contact with others just as much as they don't understand me. Isn't life complicated 🙄. 😺 Angel
Hi Silver Moon, you really are a good story teller, I felt the thrill and then the fear that Sarah felt, not only of the fall, but of her parents finding out what she did, which is sometimes the worse fear of all. I love the ending, these are the endings my sister hates, she likes them all tied up neatly like your last one, this one you can make up your own mind as to what happened to her. I liked the flow of the dialogue, this is one of my challenges, I'm only now working much harder to include more of it. My preferred writing is poetry, not so much need for dialogue, and like your first one you can get away without it in a short story, but I enjoyed the interaction between the siblings, and it also reminded me of my childhood with my sister. She was younger than I was, but would be the one to get me into trouble, not often, but occasionally lol. Well done on a well written story. Oh, I'm not an expert, it's just my humble opinion, but I am honest. Thank you for the request 😺 Angel
Hi Ruwth, for people who've never experienced deliverance ministry done properly it can be a strange thing. I've experienced it several times in my life and I've always come out stronger the other side. I don't claim to completely understand it but I know it works. You've described it so we'll, with two people feeling their way through an experience neither of them are expecting, well done on explaining a very misunderstood part of Church life. Thank you for taking the time to write and for sharing this.
Hi Celtic Snow, isn't memory something we take for granted until something reminds us that it is fluid and no matter how hard we try to hold onto things they fade. I love your poem, you describe this so well, even those we love who are no longer with us eventually fade, we don't forget they were there, but their faces or certain things about them. It's heartbreaking and there's nothing we can do. When I was young, about 19 I lost all my short-term memory, I was unable to learn anything new. I had to have brain surgery, it was successful, however, it gave me a deep awareness of my memory and how fragile it is. It's also a powerful thing too, how we can remember things or people by certain things we see or smell, like the Cherry Blossom Tree, it triggers a memory that nothing else can. Such a powerful poem, it touched me because of my own experiences, thank you for sharing this.
Hi Fyn, I love this poem, it's a mixture of the facts of the volcanic eruption with the belief system of those who are indigenous to the area. It reminded me of one I wrote about Pompeii. I have a fascination with volcanoes, as you pointed out they are both creative and destructive. The damage they cause and the loss of life are devastating for those who live under their shadow, but without them, we wouldn't have the land we live on. They are the force that builds new land and they attract people from across the world to study them, or just admire the spectacle. Nature at it's most powerful is incredible but more often destructive sadly causing loss of lives and homes.
Hi Magical Joey, my heart went out to you in this poem. I would have thrown my arms around you had you walked through the doors of the Church I attend, as would so many others. How sad that people have become invisible in a place where if Jesus had been there He would have stopped the whole service to talk to people. He would have reached out His hand to all who walked through His door. I pray that if this is your reality that you find a Church where you are welcome just as you are not as people either expect you to be. I have been in this position, I understand and it shouldn't happen, I pray that, as I said, if this is about you personally then my hope is you find somewhere warmer to celebrate Jesus.
I love the poem because it speaks of just how you feel and describes it so well, being that shrinking flower, the odd one out, the unloved, unwanted. The inner turmoil came through clearly in the line 'I cannot fight to put myself at the centre of attention', this because you shouldn't have to fight and the thought of doing that is just too much. Even going through the doors was a battle and it felt lost before it began. Well done for putting this across so clearly.
Hi Jules, I loved this. I could see all this craziness in my mind at the mall and in cars but you took it to a great new level with Korea, I almost hoped it would work, then remembered it wasn't real. Drat, my imagination ran away with me again. This was a great start to my day, so much fun, thanks for writing it.
Hi Zeke, you've reviewed so much of my work that I wanted to drop by and have a look at your portfolio.
I love this poem, firstly because I love trees and as soon as I read the first two lines I knew what the words were describing. Old trees are amazing, you have to wonder what stories they could tell if they could talk. I loved the lines about its stateliness and grandeur. I could visualise this great old tree standing alone and yet monopolising the landscape for all to see and wonder at. Thank you for this beautiful poem and for lighting up my day. It's been a sad one for me and this reminded me that there is always a mark that we can leave behind. I lost a friend and she left a mark on many people's lives, just like the tree.
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