These fragile hands
They carved our lives
Toiled and tilled the land
Weathered storms to thrive
Ensured we survived.
In dreams we built in stone
Sodhouses we were to call home
These weathered palms
Supported and grew
Maintained our farm
Brought strength anew
Enabled hope to shine through.
Prairie-land homesteaders
Mid-west pioneers.
©Alison Jean Hankinson
Image from Wikimedia- creative commons labelled for reuse.
For d’Verse.
With patient love he watched her as she slept
She who had held him close to breast as child
Deep within his chest his aching heart wept.
Whilst she appeared contented in her dreams and smiled
As though her fears and troubles were finally reconciled
For soon the relentless punishing pain would be gone
Yet in his memory-this moment of love would linger on.
©Alison Jean Hankinson
This is for d’Verse where we were asked to write in Chaucerian stanza. First time I have done this.
The final slumber….
I am not sure I got the meter right.
The image is my Grandmother and her eldest son Frank.
Lashings of blueberry conserve
Rain lashing on the window pane.
Luscious sumptuous late summer fruits
Raspberries fresh from the cane.
Limes lingering for mocktails
Sauvignon blanc chilling on ice.
Swede broccoli and carrot
For roast lamb supper tonight.
Leftovers for lunchtime tomorrow
No fresh salad but mushrooms galore,
As the weather signals the move to autumn
It is Hot Chocolate with whipped cream we adore.
©Alison Jean Hankinson.
This is for d’Verse poetics where we were encouraged to consider the contents of our fridge….it took a while and was almost a fridge too far….hence the title….
The rain did lash the window panes today, the River Lune was very fast flowing with what looked like whole trees heading out to sea….crumpet weather…I did stop and have a Hot Chocolate on the way home from the University.
Hope- a fountain
In the desert of despair.
Hope- a shooting star
In a sky of troubles.
Hope- a safe harbour
In a tempestuous storm.
Hope- a heartbeat missed
When you realise you are home
When everything is broken,
Hope is all there is.
©Alison Jean Hankinson.
The anchor is to represent hope. The flowers and other images are where I find glimpses of hope.
Things have felt quite broken recently and it is hope that keeps us walking forward through turbulent times. “Walk on with hope in your heart and you will never walk alone.”
Gerry and the Pacemakers- Walk on
Sunshine over Shap
Last embers of summer smoulder
Leaves linger lazily
Brittle against the breeze.
Once upon an autumn sunrise
We hung our lives out on the washing line
Pegged our pain and memories side by side
Peeled back the layers revealed the years of anguish
Aired the past and put it out to dry.
The gentle winds of autumn swept away the tears we shed
We both knew who we were and we collected all our worth
And meaning in one basket of crumpled washing.
We folded and sorted it and stuffed it back in the drawers
So no-one else could see.
Brittle against the breeze
Leaves linger lazily.
Last embers of summer smoulder
Sunshine over Shap.
©Alison Jean Hankinson
This is my contribution to Open Link Night at d’Verse.
Oh, heavenly night
Silver star-spun light
Shimmers across the sea.
The moon lingers low
My heart is aglow
Oh, heavenly night.
The air crisp and cold
Chills of autumn nights unfold
Shimmers across the sea.
Shooting stars above
Fill my heart with love
Oh, heavenly night.
As my worries and fears take flight
Cascades of phosphorescent light
Shimmer across the sea.
Free my spirit soars
Harvest moon adored.
Oh, heavenly night
Shimmers across the sea.
©Alison Jean Hankinson.
As a leopard cannot change it’s spots
I cannot change, no matter what
I am that I am and was
I am a sea of hope
Wave of salvation
Breathing new life
To your dreams
Follow
Me.
Alison’s response to Vivian’s opening of the nonet.
This was for Jilly’s challenge- Casting Bricks to Attract Jade.
The first part of the nonet was from Vivian and this is my completion…
White walls, empty Halls
Echoes of silenced pain and lives put on eternal hold.
Unmarried asylum seekers in days of old
Imprisoned indefinitely to save their souls.
Families wanted them hidden away
To arrest society’s decay
Often damaged not decadent
Guilty of innocence rather than indolence.
Incest often lead to childbirth and illegitimacy
They were declared insane because of forced intimacy
What madness masqueraded within
When authority had power and victims powerless remained?
©Alison Jean Hankinson
I am putting this into d’Verse open link night. I wrote it last year when I reflected on how things had changed so much in terms of attitudes to mental health. These women were often asylum seekers and deserved better than they got.
I have been working this year with families and carers in crisis, who have a loved one experiencing psychosis and Bi-polar.
Image- Woman In A Psychiatric Ward With Two Dolls. Stock Photo, Picture in public domain.
Butterfly jitterbug
Scantily across the mildewed road
Sordid sounds of rank and file
Perturbed the air
Candyfloss tears
Mistaken identities
Purriri moth in damson tree.
When the wind blows cold
I shall wear my purple hat
Forgive me.
© Alison Jean Hankinson
This is for d’Verse.….mmmm have no idea if this is right…
The image is from flickr by Pamela Kelly.
It was a beautiful start to October, a little bit of chill in the early morning air and some dew on the grass. In the garden across the road there is an array of spider webs, which glisten in the dew. I haven’t dared to photograph them as I don’t want to disturb the neighbours and having me trample through their garden with my trusty camera might indeed be disturbing.
We spent some time at Heversham visiting family and came back through Dallam Park, it is beautiful at this time of year, with the trees turning and that warm soft afternoon sun. The Deer were quite low down and there were pheasants in abundance. I know that some people find them frustrating as they can damage garden beds, but I love to see them in all their splendour foraging in the shrubbery and grass for spiders and seeds.
Fall’s frail web of lace
Reminiscent of first frost
Pheasants chase spiders.
© Alison Jean Hankinson
Haibun for d’Verse.
The spider web image was available to use in the public domain from pixabay, the other photographs were taken yesterday driving through Dallam Park.
Hues of Hankinson 