Tag Archives: grief


Bluebell in my hand,
Sheltered petals kissed with dew,
Cold gnawing at my fingers,
But I will not let her through.

Bluebell safe and warm,
Perfume rising on the wind,
Winter wants to take you from me,
But I will not let him win.

Bluebell dipped in sky,
Violet harbour in this grey,
I know that you are dying,
But you need not be afraid.

Bluebell mine, bluebell mine,
Ever beautiful and frail,
Long after you have left me,
My heart will sing your tale.

Can’t you see my happy face?

Can’t you see my happy face?
I’m smiling, can’t you see?
These are tears of joy, you know,
Your blessings gladden me.

Can’t you see my happy face?
It’s the best news the world,
I can’t wait to meet your little one,
Whether boy or whether girl.

(Can’t you see my empty space?
The hole inside my heart?
I may feel glad at what you have,
But I’m also torn apart…)

Can’t you see my happy face?
I’m ecstatic, and it shows,
I’m happy that you’re happy,
And that’s the only truth you’ll know.

Porcelain Dolls

Dedicated to my beautiful cousin Erica; gone but never forgotten. Thank you for the smiles. Sweet dreams, Angel.

Porcelain dolls,
Side by side,
We are grey,
We are cracked,
We are broken,
Limbs shattered
yet entwined,
Bodies huddled,
Swaying to a rhythm of
Please hold my hand
for it is crumbling,
Someone hug me
for I am breaking,
Hold me up
before I fall,
My disjointed
knees are weak
and tired,
I need shoulders
for my heavy head,
We are joined by
one prevailing sadness,
Held in the stasis
of our grief,
(But still we
eke out a smile
at a joyful memory,
We slip a laugh
between the tears…)
One doll is gone,
One doll ascended,
The remaining dolls
are now fragmented,
picking up the
dusty remnants,
Tiny bits of porcelain,
But we have each other,
We are together,
And many pieces
can be

15 Years Later

If you asked me
15 years ago
If I thought that time could heal
that wound
I would have looked at you
– A rawness in my eyes,
My light nearly all consumed –
And I would have told you with
intense certainty
that it would
fade away
A hurt that great is itself
an entity
that will haunt me every day.

But 15 years have passed now,
The wound is healed,
The scar; less defined,
And the memory
only softly now
like a feather on my mind.

Time is kind.


I looked at him,
Into the emerald of his eye,
And he did not see me,
My fingers passed right through
the rosy blush upon his cheek
and he did not feel me,
I said that thing he always loved
and the words; they just evaporated
and he did not hear me,
And the saccharine scent of my perfume
that reminded him of butterflies
just fell into the void
and he did not smell me,
And he didn’t press upon
the worry of my brow
with the softness of his lips;
He did not taste me,

And then I knew
that I was asleep,

And then I cried
no tears.


I close my eyes
and I can hear
the passage
of my life,
Each ticking of the
A second closer
to the end of time,
Each beating of my
waning heart;
A minim closer
to the end of mine,
But it’s OK,
As the moments
wash away
into the ultra white
that marks
the failing of my sight,
As I edge closer
to the come what may,
to the end of stave,
to the moment
meets my day,
I become the pause,
I am the peace,
I am the silence that
this moment reaps,
I am the final
of deep relief,
I am the saline tear
that dances
down your cheek,
The farewell
that through this
chasm creeps,
I am the gone,
The tacet, the rest,
I am the nothing left,
I am the screaming silence
that is death,
And it’s OK.

Third of Three

I never met you,
But I miss you,
You don’t exist,
But I kiss you
in my dreams,
I set aside a portion of my heart,
Swaddled it in endless love,
And engraved it with your name,
But you never came to be,
And so I miss you.
Destined now to grieve eternally,
For all the times that we’ll not see,
For the smell of you
nuzzled next to me,
Reciprocated love,
You would have been my legacy,
The third of three,
The third best thing
I’ve ever achieved,
A beautiful embodiment of possibility,
But you, my love, weren’t meant to be.
And you, my love, will never be.
And you, my love, will never see
just how much
I miss you.

A Silent Goodbye

When you want something,
I’m told,
the whole universe conspires
to give it to you.
But as I watch your hand rest so certainly
on the handle of the front door
that you once carried me through,
I can only deduce that the universe hates me.
I’m not crying;
I did that in abundance while you were upstairs packing.
All you can see now
(that is, if you could look me in the eye,
which you can’t)
are the carmine cracks
that my tears have scored into my eyeballs.
The pain that is etched there
is a direct representation
of the pain carved into the chambers of my heart
And there’s this… hollowness…
It sits in the same place
that used to flitter like a butterfly
whenever your fingers graced my skin.
I can all but taste your smile;
The one that you seem to have buried somewhere dark.
And unforgiving
And unreachable.
And I fight the urge to cup your face in my hands one last time,
To rub my thumbs against the bristles of your beard
and breathe you in
as I press my inferior lips against your perfect ones.
I fight the urge to ask you ‘why?’ for the thousandth time.
Because for the thousandth time I’d feel the word
hang leaden
in the impossible chasm between my mouth and your ears.
For the thousandth time I’d wait like a naïve child
for an answer that has never and will never come.
And as I catch myself in my own arms,
As I battle to hold myself still while my knees give up,
I realise that you are already at the gate.
That you’ve not looked back.
That you’ve not even uttered a ‘goodbye’.
That you’ve turned your back on me.
On our home.
On our life.
That ‘our’ has died and that ‘I’ might too.
That you have gone.
And into the ether
– not loud enough for even me to hear –
I scream a whispered declaration of my love
for the very last time
to a man who admittedly left me years ago,
But who is only just now
driving away.

napo2014button2This poem was written for NaPoWriMo. Today’s final challenge was, very fittingly, to write a farewell poem. My last few poems have not been received too well, so I was feeling quite down anyway, and as such this one just poured out of nowhere!

Goodbye NaPoWriMo, see you again next year 😉


Once upon the daylight blue,
A longing was drawn in vivid hues,
And sat lucid in her reverie,
For times that she and he once knew.

Painted on her memory’s eye,
Thoughts flittered like a butterfly,
They tickled at the brink of truth,
And swaddled her mind in a dulcet lie.

He no longer walks the realm of we,
He’s not bound by mortal foolery,
But he’s exalted in her ceaseless dream,
Where they dance for all eternity.

This poem was written for NaPoWriMo. Today’s challenge was to write a Persian ruba’i, which is stanza with the rhyming pattern AABA. A collection of ruba’i is called a rubaiyat and that is what I’ve produced today. Oh, and the title is a combination of the words forever and reverie!

Dawn Requiem

The night has taken me now
and it is morning.
A day of mourning.
Your tears as dew drops
on the blades of grass at dawn,
Your sighs the gentle wind
that dances with the trees,
My funeral song resounding
as the birds begin to sing.
Remember me each day
and I have not died
but am reborn in every dawn,
And I shall live forever
in the morning.