Weekend Words : Fairtytale Rewritten


Fairytale Rewritten

If I were to write,

The fairy tale of my life,

I’d not be the Princess,

I would just be his wife.

With a family at home,

There is no time for play,

Not to sit in a tower,

Brushing my hair all day.

I’ll cook and I’ll wash,

And take care of them all,

I won’t even mind

That I miss out on the ball.

I’d rather not be there,

There is a flaw in that scene,

Those dainty glass slippers

Are just too hard to clean!

I need no fairy godmother

Nor a pixie or elf,

I won’t wait for a Prince,

I’d rather rescue myself!

So while you were dreaming,

Of some fanciful thing.

I lived in real life,

And I married my king!

ents. We all know what the fairytale is supposed to be like; let’s shake it up a little!

Weekend Words : Falling Apart


Falling Apart

Every beat of my heart hurts,

That means it must have broken.

Vomit rises in my throat,

Stomach tangling in knots,

My eyes burn with stinging tears.

When did I become afraid,

Of the man I’ve always loved?

His rage and hatred chill me,

I don’t understand the anger.

I love him, but it burns me.

He loathes my everything.

I just wish I could fix it.

I miss him. His smile and his

embrace. The sound of his laugh.

All that is left is this shell.

Depression consumed his soul,

Left him trapped in the dark.

I can’t bear to watch him dying.

I try so hard to be strong,

Faking smiles and hiding tears.

It gets harder every day.

It is inevitable.

I am going to crumble.

Inside I’m already broken.

Piece by piece I fall apart,

Secret pain I cannot share.

Often I am told to leave,

but how can I abandon him?

Weekend Words : I Come From



I Come From

I come from a house full of children,

A mismatched group of girls and boys,

Some related by blood, some by circumstance,

A few stay only for a day while others never leave,

but all of them are family.

I come from a house that suddenly got quiet,

With a father who was too sick for all of us,

One by one they all found new homes,

They went to new homes and new parents,

Or grew too big for the nest.

I come from a house where sadness lurks,

Where we miss the ones who are no longer here,

Brothers, sisters, pets and our father.

Gone before we were ready to say goodbye,

Before we were grown.

I come from a house with new children,

A mismatched group of girls and boys,

Where a grandmother gathers them all to her,

And tells them of when their mothers were little,

And the house is happy again.

Weekend Words : Beautiful Insomnia


Beautiful Insomnia

Midnight. The empty street lies still and alone,

lit only by a shining silver puddle in the sky,

resting regal in the heavens on her cloud throne.

The world is silent now, no-one watching it but I,

none dare to disturb the ghostly quiet of the night,

held in a lifeless calm, not dead, just sleeping.

The trees with their skeleton hands offer applause

to the nocturnal birds that dance with the soft wind.

A lone feline ventures into the open, then withdraws,

fading into black velvet shadows like a Cheshire grin.

Darkness wraps up the familiar sights in his embrace,

and distorts them beyond my recognition.

Only at night can I see the world through new eyes,

and I wonder if this is why sleep remains out of my reach,

so that I do not miss the studded diamonds in the sky,

or the haunting melody of the owls as they screech.

I feel no frustration at my restless mind tonight,

I am content to seek out the beauty of the dark.

Weekend Words : Some Days


Some Days

There are some days when,

the light seems too bright to see,

and then there are days when,

I am content to bask in its glow.

There are some days when,

my dreams seem untouchable,

and then there are days when

I am certain that they will come true.

There are some days when,

I am so afraid of falling,

and then there are days when,

a blind leap of faith comes with ease.

There are some days when,

I cannot see the way forward,

but then I realise,

that I am the one holding myself back.

Weekend Words : The Broken Path




The Broken Path

The jagged teeth of glass glitter and glint,

ready to rip and tear fragile flesh. The

breaking sounds like cruel laughter to my ears,

flooding my mouth with the foul taste of fear.

It fills my chest and steals my breath from me.

The ground cracks and crunches with every step,

shifting, breaking and erupting new teeth,

and the fear slams shut the path I follow.


I look up and see my inspiration,

his eyes filled with pride and a warm smile that,

reminds me why I walk on broken glass.

He cuts through the roadblock, and pierces my

heart. Fear no longer seems important now,

because I remember who this is for.


This was the first of three poems I submitted for one of my creative writing assignments. It is a modern interpretation of a sonnet (in that it has no rhyme scheme) and it is about the glass walk I did back in November 2011 for Yorkhill Children’s Foundation.




A Handful of Haiku

When I first started studying creative writing as part of my Literature degree, one of the early activities was writing a Haiku daily. Poetry has never been my passion, but I have put together some of my favourite Haiku from my notebook.

My Protector

Ever faithful friend,
Standing alert over our bed,
Furry protector.

165664_1740337301539_3754557_nA Haiku  inspired by my ever faithful dog. He is incredibly loyal, especially protective of my son and would lay down his life for him. One night at around 3am, there was a huge fight in the street involving dogs and people and possibly foxes! He went to check my son was ok, and then sat on the end of the bed between my husband and I with his chest puffed up and his ears alert, watching over us.


Chilled to the bone,
Cold creeps into each limb,
Frozen to my core.


The dark closing in,
Curling around me like fog,
Safety or danger?


Cracking and clinking,
Cool, clear liquid served over ice,
Sharp bite of lime refreshes.