Coastal Girl to City Girl

Tidal Rave Across countries you wander attacking shorelines with your mighty currents as you rise and fall with new tides sweeping over the dark gloomy rocks which are hidden deep in the ocean sometimes catching glimpses of the sun. Your surface sparkles in the sun as back and forth you wander into the vastness of the ocean skimming the stones with your changing currents teasing the various rocks carrying you into the unknown with your tides. Shimmering against your tides is the brightness of the summer sun where wildlife hides under the rocks as they freely roam and wander catching the fearless currents when they migrate through the ocean. Ships sail across the ocean beating against the tides avoiding your unforgiving currents taking time out in the warm sun in and out of ports they wander navigating around the hidden rocks. Children take home sticks of rocks once they’ve dipped in the ocean up and down they wande...

  I was never really a poetry kind of person until I began my Creative Writing course & then a Literature course. I had to write & study poetry & although I enjoyed it I could never find a poem that really stuck with me. I read the Romantic poets, the modern poets & yet although I liked what they had written it felt different enjoying the poems when you had to study them. You rip a poem apart; find different meanings in each word/line/stanza & that for me took the enjoyment out of it. I feel that with poetry you have to take your time, savour each line & stanza, you have to take your time over it & let it lead you through the senses, instead of trying to find what perhaps sometimes isn’t there when doing a course & having to analyse it. I will have to push myself to read more poetry for enjoyment & decide for myself what poem I will remember instead of being forced to like certain poetry which could have the opposite affect wh...

Mirror.   Fearfully I look into the mirror Behind the dust tells my story Do I want to continue looking My father looks back short and stocky My Mothers tallness and skinny physique My Sister with her black hair and sparkling blue eyes All I see is eyes full of hurt Past piercing on my lobes, holes still showing My face shape unbeknown to me The blonde hair, my prized possession,  A kind sweet smile just like my Nan, I realise Genes affect me in every way I keep looking trying to see what face appears As I dim the lights I see two faces Mine now and the face of my past.