Do You See Me?

Hello lovely readers 🙂

As some may know I suffer with psoriatic and osteo arthritis. It’s a complicated thing. I know some will ask what’s the difference and here’s the best way I can explain; psoriatic arthritis inflames the tendons around the joints while osteo arthritis eats away at the soft bit in them.

Can you understand the plight? I am thirty years old but feel more often than not that I’m about ninety. Now I’m not one to complain as I’d rather soldier on through with a smile on my face and the love I have shining; most sufferers are pretty much as I am. We can’t change what fate and crappy health gave us so why waste energy complaining lol 🙂 However, I felt the need to write something that will give others a better insight into the daily struggles 🙂

Remember, you can’t change what you have but you can be that happy person that always helps others. Just keep yourself in mind too 🙂

Do you see me?

Do you see me?
I’m the one that smiles in the morning,
The one that makes your breakfast,
The one that never complains.
I’m the one that will strive to clean,
To make you happy beyond compare,
To put you above all others.
Need help? Come to me I’ll never say no.

Do you see me?
My smile dims but I will still ask about your day,
Make your tea,
Wash up, dry up, washing, cooking….dying….drying….
I shouldn’t complain really.
You’ve had a busy day of course you should complain that I’ve missed something.
Heaven knows my days are empty enough…

Do you see me?
Not once do you ask about my day.
You sit in your own World and miss I now walk with a limp,
I struggle up the stairs,
My hands have no strength left,
The cracks of my joints my only company.
I didn’t ask for my little friend,
The one eating away at that which helps me bend.
I am an old lady disguised as young… Yes of course I’ll get right on with cleaning,
Sorry for taking a quick break.

Do you see me?
No…. no…. you really don’t…

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Passion of My Life

Hello lovely readers 🙂

A few days ago when thanking all you lovely people who have followed my blog I promised I would dust off my very questionable poetry skills and write something about my passion. I really love to write and use my imagination for strange and wonderful things, as you’ve probably guessed from previous posts lol 🙂 Forgive the calibre of the poem, it’s been a long time and it only took me thirty minutes to write lol 🙂

 

Passion of My Life

Like many in this life who think
To do what they do love
I pick up my large frosted drink
And thank the powers above.

 

I use my brain to think up stuff
With such a happy fashion,
With a sigh and heave and huff
I carry on my passion.

 

Believe me when I come to say
There’s something just so good and bright
When I spend the entire day
With the beautiful, deadly chance to write.
 
And there you go. I told you I was very rusty 🙂 I hope you enjoyed it. Now I must dash as my eight month old is screaming the house down. I guess it’ll have to be a #FlashSaturday again. Sorry 😦

Thank you 🙂

 

 

The Tiny Limerick (minus the sauce)

During my unending years of English Language at Uni I had the honour of doing a poetry module or two each and every year. I really loved doing this as my tutors were fantastic published poets such as Carol Rumens. We studied everything from sonnets, haiku’s; all the way through to Limericks and this is what has really caught my attention at the moment. They’re just so fun to do and take very little time. They’re also perfect for the amateur poet just starting out to develop their poetic chakra. A limerick is always five lines and has a rythmic pattern of A, A, B, B, A. There’s also a tempo running through the entire poem which makes it sond almost musical. The thing that always bothered me about them however was most poets insistance on starting them ‘There once was a…’. I know this is the traditional starting to them but to be frank they always bored me to tears, so I worte a few of my own during Uni 🙂

 

In time when I cease to be,

I want to come back as a tree,

They stand really tall

And occasionally fall

But that’s alright by me.

 

My dad always try’s to be fair

But has ended up with no hair

Why can’t he see

That it’s just meant to be

To stop him from lobbing the chair.

 

If you’re a musical person, and even if you’re not, you can pick up the beat easily and form the rhymes from anything around you. Here’s one from my feelings of my current job:

 

Why will this time never end

I can’t even start to pretend

That I’m running free

and I want to be

Drinking my weight with a friend.

 

What do you think of limericks? 🙂 

Sometimes…

I will be the first to admit that I’m no authority on poetry but I will talk of one if it peaks my interest. I have a wonderful friend that has blessed me with her friendship for a few years now but only recently did I discover her love of poetry. She has very kindly sent a poem to me so I can  show others of her creativeness and her love for the written word. It’s called Sometimes and though it is free verse you can tell from the beginning of her love of poetry. It’s also reminiscent of a poem I jotted down in Uni called Echo:

Sometimes I go quiet,

I have problems of my own,

Things I need to talk about,

But no one to talk too.

Sometimes I go quiet,

I have things that make me worry,

But no one cares enough to ask,

They all just turn their backs.

Sometimes I go quiet,

And won’t talk to you for days,

I’m not ignoring you,

I just have things to think about.

I like the repetition of the first line of each verse. It really makes the protagonist sound like they have something on their mind. It also makes you wonder of the despair the protagonist feels as it seems she has been ignored by all. Good job Marie (Marie Sherman was Evans) and keep writing and experimenting 🙂

What do you think?

Sisters

The other night I was at my friends house. She was poorly and I was there just in case her or her three kids needed me. They’d all gone to bed and I got a little emotional, really feeling how important family is; so I sent a text to both of my sisters, both older than me, and really hoped they liked it:

Sisters are something special indeed;

they love, they push, they help you succeed.

We fight all the time, you know it is true,

but I’d never change anything about you two.

I’m certainly blessed in my family divine;

thank you for being there all of the time.

Ok, perhaps not some of my best work but it took ten minutes and I thought it would let my sisters know how I was feeling. In the end, one ended up not getting it and the other refused to believe I wrote it and called me a mushy bugger. I love my family :).

You

This one was written for someone who was my friend for years. She was a happy, confident woman who always inspired me to greater things. I miss her.

You

Tomorrow I would like to see

Rainbows spring forth from your eyes

A smile that tells us what we know, Stars

Cannot compare to

You.

 

Look up to see white clouds hover

Over mortal life’s eternal grace and

Understand that you and

I are bound through

Shimmers of an

Eternal bond

 

Can Heaven know your true worth?

Of this there is no doubt.

Where Angels tread is not on high, they

Are here whenever I look at you.

Never have I ever known a bigger part of my heart.

Men!

This was another stab at poetry a while back. I was bitterly cynical at the time and just broken up from my very first boyfriend. Enjoy… hopefully.

Men!

Have you ever wondered why
men are always needed?
All they ever do is lie
and do not ever attempt to try
to understand the reason why
we just feel impeded.
Have you ever wondered why
men are always needed?

Echo

I dabbled in poetry for a while years ago and found that my interest in it didn’t out do my love for novel writing. They were ok but not great. I always had an interest in greek myth as it was rampant with imagination and colourful description. This is my take below…

Echo

Look at me.
Your golden locks fall forward as you stare at
your one true love,
that rippling façade which has your eye.

Look at me.
You gently touch that shimmering form,
your fingers meeting his,
caressing that familiar cheek.

Look at me.
I watch you daily,
staring into that watery void,
longing for that one which you cannot have.

Look at me.
Why can’t I tell you?
Why can’t I say those words that I long to?
“I love you.”

Look at me.
You moved forward,
gently reaching for that beloved nymph as
you utter those words, “Look at me.”

Look at me.
Where are you?
Nothing remains but a splash on the surface.
You and your love are gone.

Look at me.
I’m alone.
You don’t sit by my side anymore.
I am here remembering your words.

Look at me.
Nothing remains but my tumultuous song,
my dirge of your voice.
Not even I am here.

Look at me.
Look at me,
my Narcissus,
look at me.