Love – Page 3 – Hues of Hankinson

I don’t belong to you…the voice of a lover crossed.

I don’t belong to you

I never did

I was just a borrowed shirt

An accessory of sorts

To compliment your crass existence

I wasn’t yours to own.

We danced all night, our bodies entwined

It was love at first sight,

We belonged together forever.

But at the end of the night

You were gone.

I was alone.

Do you want jam with your toast?

I prefer eggs she thought.

Is this my life I see before me?

Always him before me, and he can’t even see

Always sugar in tea, no chance to be free

No room for me.

I had his head on a platter

Silver ornate, shiny no blood spatter

It was the only way to win you see

I got to be loved and adored

Play the field, chair the board

And still be me.

©Alison Jean Hankinson

Shades of Betty.

It was damask and silk with woven flowers,

Azure, ruby and evergreen on a backdrop of black velveteen.

Her favourite scarf.

She wore it like a shawl

skittered, off-centre a-kilter

slightly syncopated in the spirit of her slightly singular eccentricity.

Shades of sublime serendipity

Shades of anguish unfurling

Shades of Betty.

The image is my own. ©Alison Jean Hankinson

Five minutes later…

It was a monstrous mistake

The earth mover mounted the middle barriers and mowed down the Nissan Micra.

Five minutes later and all would have ended well.

Instead her bloodied hands on the steering wheel, airbags inflated windscreen broken

Laughter lost amidst the debris of a terrible double tragedy.

Can I buy you a drink you look like you need one?

She laughed nervously as he set the glass in front of her,

His charm left her glassy eyed and lost at sea.

Five minutes later and it would have been someone else at the bar, someone else he would have warmed his hands on

Her soul would have been free.

How our lives and futures hang in a balance that is so often beyond our control is something that mesmerises me. For good or bad it can be a split second either way that makes the difference and then we must ask ourselves is this all by chance? Who rolled the dice?

This is my offering for d’Verse open link night.

The Last Winter recedes…

We walked to heal our hearts and minds. The wind cut through like glass but the sunset set the ripples alight on the water. It was spring and a time of birth and regeneration. New life blossoming all around. But we walked with heavy eyes.

We walk often, it gives us chance to talk, or not as the moment requires. We walk to fill our souls with the soothing spectacle of the distant mountains and listen to the gentle lap-lap and let it wash over us. We are losing a loved one who is between the autumn and winter of his life and the knowledge that he is slipping away is becoming more than a whisper on the wind.

Spring blossoms slowly

Sunset cuts through the anguish

Life melts like glacier.

©Alison Jean Hankinson

This is for d’Verse.

Tuku Iho

In this house we live year on year

Our lives enriched by treasured trinkets we hold dear.

Each memory good or bad permeates these walls

Each sound of love and cry of pain echoed through these halls.

In this house of love we played and plotted undaunted

Our lives enriched by dreams of grandchildren and children wanted.

Each wall on strong foundations built to withstand falls

Each garden flower planted with patience and nurtured with love grows tall.

Our house is strong from loving bonds

Our legacy seeps through each foliage frond

Every brick and stone when we grow old

Carries enduring imprint of our souls.

©Alison Jean Hankinson

this is for the final day of napowrimo2108

Death washes over us…..

The sun set slowly

reminded us of the glory days

When we had youth and fortitude.

We cannot all age well

Yet we all remember our youthful ways,

when we danced playfully at the murky edge of maturity.

This body frail as it is now

was a totem, an emblem of our love and lives together,

hallowed in the summers of our spiritual enlightenment before we had children of our own.

The sun sets slowly.

Death washes over us,

creeps through the open window in the dead of night.

©Alison Jean Hankinson.

napwrimo 18 Day 29 the penultimate.

This is for d’Verse open link night.

Listing

Sometimes I just want to shout man overboard

I wonder if they notice me drowning in my sea of despair

The waves washing over me eroding my will to rise above the tide

of hopelessness.

Sometimes I just want to shout man overboard

It as if I have been listing too long

I can’t hold on anymore and I am driftwood at sea

Destined to become seaweed and seashells for beachcombers in the longshore drift.

It was a man overboard kind of week. This is for Napowrimo18. Day 27. Fragile.

Passing it down the line….it is in the genes.

I inherited her laugh

It resonated in any room, raucous,

Cackle, guffaw, chortle and undeniably unstoppable.

An energy an emission of unadulterated joy

Everyone knew she was there.

“It’s only for kids missus!”- that was Ken Dodd puppeteer extraordinaire.

King of the diddy men.

“Alison- Your mum’s here…

I just heard her laugh.”

For poetics at d”verse and for Day 24 of Napowrimo 18.

I am sorry girls but you definitely have it too…long may we laugh. XXXX love you Mumma. XXX

Windchime

I hear your voice in the morning as you call me

Beckons me to follow you home.

Where your voice lingers.

I gather trinkets that are reminders of you,

A windchime, a plant pot, a word unspoken

A feather, a seashell, a stray thought.

This is for Day23 of napowrimo18

The first line is loosely taken from Country Roads, a song I hear in my head often that makes me think of my mum and dad. It will be 10 years this summer since mum passed but I still gather things that she would have liked, and I still don’t know if I gather them for her or for me. Love my family. XXXX

This is also for d’Verse quadrille and the challenge word/thought was gather.