helen-moule
English
As well as being a published poet I was given the great honour to be an International Poetry judge which I am relishing as this gives me the opportunity to give up and coming new poets the chance to enter competitions and also the chance to build their confidences greatly
I CANNOT SAY GOODBYE
No matter which way or why
I drive through the city
Feeling such pity
With tears in these eyes
Pitiful, painful
How cruel is a goodbye
When I cannot say goodbye
I still feel your pounding heart
The throbbing ache that’ll never depart
The passions we felt
The sensual sensations
Your body heats still a beat away
Yet I cannot keep away
I want to turn this car around
Screeching tires
Slipping and sliding in the mires
The blinding lights
Can this be right?
Hands gripping tight
Stomach in flight
Stomach so tight
The gears shifting
My mind lifting
How could I say goodbye
When all I could see was there in your eyes
The wipers wiping
My vision is clearing
The smearing, streaking
Disappearing
I see a vision of beauty
Your beauty
Your love
Your heart
Your soul
All there, here
Right here, right now!
Careering, tearing
Back to you!
© Teresa Joseph Franklin
7th February 2014
All Rights Reserved
Feb 8, 2014
Feb 8, 2014 at 9:14 AM UTC
HOW CAN I PRETEND
That these feelings are not real?
This closeness, this desire
Right here before my eyes
Looking into your eyes
The answers are all there
A burning fire, burning so hot
Raging passions
Heightened by your touch
Oh such bodies rush so lush
Gently seeking, gently caressing
Gently engulfing to be engulfed
Consume to be consumed
Wrapped up in those arms of yours
Wanting more and more of this body
Softly whispering
I want you, need you
Still looking into each other’s eyes
Deep, deep, deep oh so deep
Flesh on flesh
Oh the body heat
© Teresa Joseph Franklin
18th October 2013
All Rights Reserved
Dec 30, 2013
Dec 30, 2013 at 12:17 PM UTC
******* THE LIFE
Sitting awhile
Quietly
Peacefully
The sea rippling
The waves so calm
But beneath there is a rippling
Flowing heaving
Curling
Riptide
Swirling
Pulling
******* everything in its path
Way down deep
Deep
In the depths
Of the oceans bed
Wherever it goes
It flows beneath
A rotten stagnant
Lifeless woes
Where nothing can be real
But life is real
It tosses and turns
Churns
Our lives
Upside down
Like a riptide
Way deep inside
The fear
The anguish
The panic
The pain
A love tossed aside
Way deep inside
Whilst I sit here I am letting it go
Flow, flow
With the riptide
But this riptide I am in control
© Teresa Joseph Franklin
4th September 2012
All Rights Reserved
Sep 4, 2012
Sep 4, 2012 at 8:49 AM UTC
A LOVERS QUEST
Just like
Romeo and Juliet’s
Two wolf packs
Very much alike
With dignity and pride
But keeping themselves far and wide
But these two lovers met
And never wanted to depart
The lover’s quest
Began in a land so far and wide
One family on one side
And the other family
On the border
Both looking and growling
On opposites side of the line
Calling the pair back to the pack
Where they reside
The lover’s quest
Broke free
From both their families
Running wild and free
Away from the pain and misery
They travelled the lands
Far and wide
Their quest to find their own
Happiness
Through trials
And their own tribulations
The lover’s Quest
The pair found their own den
Happy as can be
Away from all that was
And their own families
This quest
For our Romeo and Juliet
Is at its best
Their nest was built
More solidly than their own before
Happier, gladly
This quest has led them both
With their own wolf cubs
From heavens store
What more could they have ever asked for?
Our Romeo and Juliet
Rest now in heavens clouds
Happy
Carefree
Just how it should be
Below they see their one and only child
With a love so pure and simple
By his side
© Teresa Joseph Franklin
Please note that this is my Pen Name
30th April 2012
All Rights Reserved
Sep 4, 2012
Sep 4, 2012 at 7:51 AM UTC
A MOTHERS ROLE
WITHIIN THE TRIBAL FAMILY
She is a warrior in her own right
Guardian
Protector
Of all that is hers
The teacher of all things
To her family
The tribe
The hunter and gatherer
Out there in the front line
With men gathering in the spoils of victory
Over Buffalo and Bison
With their child strapped
In the papoose
The Warrior mother
Has no liking for material objects
Her mind only set on what is really required
Warmth, shelter, their blankets and clothing
And all importantly the food for the family
Is enough for this warrior mother
She claims no fame
There is no gain
For she is part of the entire
Tribal family
This warrior mother
Will never put herself above anyone else
Will always be there for others in need
This mother’s role
Is the teacher of all that once was
From generation to generation
Stories to be told
Legends of warriors
Forefathers and foremothers
Telling the stories
Of how life can be
Making the children ready
For their own life’s
Ventures
Adventures
And
Histories
© Helen Moule
1st May 2012
May 6, 2012
May 6, 2012 at 2:37 PM UTC
THE MASK….
This mask that I wear
Is worn with care
Behind this mask
Is someone so
Rare
Beware!!!
For this mask can tell
A million stories
Of fight and glories
Behind this mask
Resides the real me
Confusions
Disillusions
Loneliness
Restlessness
This mask is worn
To cover the scars
Marred by the years
Of fears
Tears
Afraid of not being
Heard
Shattered confidences
Self-worth
Pity showing its ugly face
Feeling of disgrace
So never be fooled
By the mask that is worn
It could be I am tattered
And torn
This mask that I wear
Keeps me secure
And so sure
Silently watching
From every corner
Gaining strength
Dignity
And grace
Finally someday
I will show
My true face
© Helen Moule
23rd April 2012
May 6, 2012
May 6, 2012 at 2:29 PM UTC