September Blog

Well I only started this blog a month ago and I can't believe how many views I 've had! I find it amazing that so many read and enjoy my poetry all over the world. I realised that when I posted poetry to the site that I was sacrificing entrance to publishing and competitions but then I thought I'd rather have people read it than being stuck in the dark depths of a hardrive or moulding folder somewhere. Plus it gives me the incentive to keep everyone amused. So thank you to everyone who reads it:-)

   Poetry is my therapy and helps during the difficult times of my clinical depression. But I am a happy, optimistic person and am now looking forward to the second  year of my Advanced Creative Writing course with the Open University. I am almost at the end of my BA(hons) in Arts and Humanities now, my last year being the study of Shakespeare in text and performance. I always said I would complete it byt the time I got to 60 and I am one year out being 61 in January!!!!




Human Metamorphosis

"What the caterpillar calls the end of the world the master calls a butterfly." - Richard Bach

She was wrapped, trapped in her duvet..
For days she did not rise,
surprise with sighs and lies.
In her mind she was a butterfly.
She just lay in her duvet,
day after day.
But while she was dream weaving;
she was scheming about leaving.
Her metamorphosis was due,
and no one had a clue.
She just lay, day after day
When they broke down the door,
there was no trace of her
any more.
She had taken flight,
sometime in the night.
All that remained
  torn and stained,
     was her old duvet
brown,
ripped,
and quite crisp
like a
cocoon.