Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Clare Wright Jun 2010
High on a hill our grandparent’s home stood,

Its majesty in stone cast a haunted look,

Light glimmered from a paraffin lamp,

Whilst outside it snowed on the geese,

As they ran to their shelter,

And the cows mooed on the fields above,

And the goats cried in the barn.

Mother pumped water from the well,

We ran around collecting eggs,

Granddad showed me how to milk a goat.

In the evenings we gathered in the kitchen,

The fire roared in the range,

Granddad sat in his big chair,

He burned anything just to keep warm,

We thought it very strange.

Mother worked at the big white sink,

Knitted squares hung from a line,

We made tiny plasticine dolls,

They slept in plasticine beds,

We drank Dandelion and Burdock,

Ginger pop and Sarsaparilla,

It came in enormous stone bottles,

Dad got it every week from a man at the door.

Most of the rooms were huge, bleak and bare,

A room we called the playroom,

Was carpeted with goat skins,

There were jars of melted metal,

Who knows why?

We were told it was grandma’s jewelry,

Melted to stop the Germans getting it in the war,

In the long hall there was a dressing up chest,

We loved to look inside.

The bathroom was a scary place,

There was a lion head toilet and a bath with lions feet,

At night we went upstairs with a candle for light,

We cuddled together to keep warm,

One night we saw fairies at the window.

Our aunty had a gramophone,

Records all scattered around,

We had to be careful where we trod,

She loved Frank Sinatra and Bing Crosby,

We didn’t understand.

Our uncle slept on the top floor,

In a huge brass bed,

One day I took him a cup of tea,

We were not normally allowed up there,

He fixed broken cars they were all everywhere.

He played late in the barn with his girlfriend.

My grandmother slept downstairs,

She always was very ill,

Wrapped in bed in a pink bed shawl,

We got her water from the spring,

To cure her, but she died.
Clare j Wright
Clare Wright Mar 2010
I love your eyes,
Your eyes,
Your eyes like butterflies,
Like butterflies when we kiss,
We kiss,
We kiss like smouldering coals,
Like your eyes,
Smouldering coals,
Coals hot with passion,
Hot with passion raging,
Passion raging in loves glory,
In loves glory like fire,
Fire burning,
Fire burning in the forest,
Like forest fires,
The forest burns,
The forest burns for you,
Like a never ending story.
Clare Wright Mar 2010
My daughter’s face is quiet
No glitter in her eyes,
But an instant later comes,
The transformation of her smiles,
Stardust sprinkles from her face,
It glitters on all around,
The sparks they fly with radiance,
They touch me deep inside.
Clare Wright Mar 2010
Stomach ticking over,
With what was to come,
Churning and turning,
Past, present and future,
All mixed in dreams.

Worse than I dared to hope,
Where all dreams are dead,
What a sight beheld my eyes,
The vultures had swooped,
On my being they had feasted.

How swiftly the shark swims,
How rapid it swallows its prey,
Nothing but a heap of memories,
I had been ravaged by it all.
Well the fat ***** stood and watched.

Slowly she swelled into the room,
She was shining in the glory of guilt,
I was washed in her apathy,
I looked around for what I had lost,
But was it really ever there?
Clare Wright Mar 2010
Come you lovers make the leap,
Take the cup drink long and deep,
For it is the cup of love,
Press firmly to your lips,
Hold it very close.

Pick the fruit and taste it well,
Savour and adore the spell,
For it is the love apple,
Bite it with delight,
You have it made.

Tie the binds and make them tight,
Keep your heart and pledge alight,
For it is the love knot,
Intertwine your parts,
They do not slip.

Wear the lock around your neck,
Keep your head and heart in check,
For it is the love lock,
The token shared,
Love eternal.

Rejoice it is a feast so fine,
A feast to last the end of time,
For it is the love game,
You play so pure,
So certain to win.

Release the birds of shining fire,
Their paradise in the sky much higher,
They are the love birds,
Born to fly above,
They fly together.

Appreciate and delight your emotion,
Take your love and swallow the potion,
For it is love nectar,
Manner from heaven,
Ambrosia of gods.

Crave your possession with your part,
Bathe your lover's swollen heart,
For it is the love caress,
Breathe tender regard,
Give any consideration.

Take all circumstance and dance all night,
Eat the cherries and lose the fight,
For love is letting go,
Let things be,
Thrive and free.

Hold them in your arms an atmosphere not bland,
Take all burnings as willows love wet land,
For the love of life,
Let all things grow,
Nurture and fulfil.

Take all your desires and all your yearnings,
Discover your lover through all of their burnings,
For you are the love birds,
Born to fly above,
You fly together.

Look out at the world in the same direction,
Hold your love in deep affection,
For love is a passage,
Through the storm,
Breathe it in.

Ride high on the tidal wave of boundless ocean,
Swelling the seas with all your emotion,
For love overflows,
Feel the heat in your veins,
Sit in the seat of love.
Clare Wright Mar 2010
Broom smashed,
Broom broken,
Broom flattened,
I saw it there,
It felt like me,
It’s had it really.
Clare Wright Mar 2010
I see Dockers watering pansies with dainty watering cans,
I see transvestites doing DIY,
I see women building bodies,
I see men cook and fry,
And don’t grown men cry?

Gender complexities, ****** complexities,
Why the split when things don’t fit?
Women doing house removals whilst men sit and sew,
So what?
Humanities, biologies, personalities,
Are we not more the same than different?
The World is crazy for categories,
But we do not fit inside.
Next page