My Yoga Journey: Poetic Update

My stiff yoga moves fail to impress

And frustration leaves me in distress

Screaming hamstrings so tight

Stubborn hip-flexors fight

Till I blink back hot tears – what a mess… 😦




Within my screaming mind I hear such noise

Cacophonies reverberate immense

Tempestuous and lacking shape or poise

Staccato sounds unformed make no real sense

My mental maelstrom silences my voice

Prevents my thoughts form clearly in my head

Like tongue-tied mute I struggle, stripped of choice

My larynx flayed, I cry a storm instead…

But in a while my wild brain calms once more

Such quietude replaces strident shout

And settling, soft words soon come to the fore

Caress my tongue and dance so sweetly out

Soliloquies flow gently with such ease

Like ribbons streaming freely in the breeze…

Word of the Day Challenge: Soliloquy

Weekly Smile: 15 Oct 2018

Just Smile…

If I could smile at everyone I see

And try to make the world a better place

I’d do it in a heartbeat, just to be

A nicer member of the human race

To smile is such a simple thing to do

A universal sign of friendliness

And hopefully a smile returns to you

Connection made, anxiety feels less

But modern life’s not always very kind

As cultures clash, suspicion grows to fear

Some only see what they expect to find

And listen to what they’re prepared to hear

So try to be more thoughtful and embrace

The power of a smile upon your face…

My poetic contribution to ‘The Weekly Smile‘ on Trent’s Blog 🙂

I really love the idea of finding things weekly to smile about, so hopefully will be joining in with Trent on a regular basis 🙂



I wonder sometimes who is really me

Opposing facets help me face the world

Each element a part identity

Each fold of me so easily unfurled

I feel compelled to fill my active brain

Expand intelligence with vim and verve

Whilst too much stimulation causes pain

And mindful solitude soothes fraying nerves

My wanderlust creates such restless glee

Engaging mind in forward thinking gear

Yet though my heart may long to wander free

It also yearns for home and those held dear

In spite of much confusion in my soul

My many contradictions keep me whole…

Politically Preposterous

Politically Preposterous…

When Trump first ran for President we mocked

Looked forward with amusing disbelief

To watching this crazed narcissist be blocked

From serious high office – such relief!

There’s nothing presidential in his speech

Just cocksure arrogance and whipped-up fear

Our certainty this race would never reach

A final count with Clinton in the rear…

But somewhere down the line we got it wrong

Misjudged the situation to our cost

Trump’s lies obscured the real facts all along

Now truth reveals so many freedoms lost

America has lost the plot for sure

Rise up and vote him out the only cure…

Fandango’s One Word Challenge: Preposterous

Shakespeare’s Sonnets

Would it astonish you if I told you I love reading Shakespeare?

We studied both Macbeth and Hamlet in depth in school, and I absolutely loved it. I loved the rhythm and the cadence and the historical humanity of it all. Learn how the old-fashioned language works, learn to read it as if out loud and suddenly the story comes alive in your imagination, in your head, and in your heart.

I love many of Shakespeare’s sonnets, too – I love the simple emotion with which he writes, pouring his passion on to the page. As with all poetry, interpretation is in the eye of the beholder, not just the poet. I read into it what I choose, what resonates most with me, regardless of how others may view it.

My favourite is probably sonnet 27:

Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed,
The dear repose for limbs with travail tired;
But then begins a journey in my head
To work my mind, when body’s work’s expired.
For then my thoughts, from far where I abide,
Intend a zealous pilgrimage to thee,
And keep my drooping eyelids open wide,
Looking on darkness which the blind do see.
Save that my soul’s imaginary sight
Presents thy shadow to my sightless view,
Which, like a jewel hung in ghastly night,
Makes black night beauteous, and her old face new.
Lo thus by day my limbs, by night my mind,
For thee, and for myself, no quiet find.
Four hundred-odd years ago, a man wrote eloquently about the total restlessness of being in love, of feeling so besotted with missing someone he cares for but is apart from that he can’t seem to sleep at night however tired he is after a hard day’s work. That a modern man (or a modern woman like me for that matter) might so easily relate to that same unsettled sleepless feeling today in times of separation, albeit in slightly less poetic language – to me that’s what’s most astonishing! 🙂