An elephant never forgets
as neither will I.
The circle of cows around the unmoving new born.
The gentle prodding of trunks.
The Matriarch in charge
places guards to warn the herd
of approaching hunters.
As slowly through breath comes life
A stirring from the babe
A tonal change in sound from mother and her sisters
Time of the essence
The calf wobbles on its legs
tries to rise, fails, tries again.
Its first steps,
safe behind the herd’s protective wall.
The call goes up.
The whole group slowly moves off as one protective collective.
Monday, 27 June 2016
An elephant never forgets
Friday, 24 June 2016
I do not want the morning sun to rise
To bring another day of bright blue skies
I do not want to face the ache of loss
The pain of past memories
Gnawing hungrily at my heart.
My face, against the pillow, lies
Smothered by the scent of absence
Drowning in the tears of loss
Sinking in a sea of sorrow
Suffocated by the silence
Of the void left by your voice.
Let me stay here in the dark
Where love lay so beautifully.
Reminiscing meadow walks
Replaying the touch of skin
Nestling in the curve of your caresses
Before it fades and vanishes.
Do not let the daisies grow in our special place
Where others walk now, in our steps,
In summer dresses,
under a prematurely starless sky
I do not want the morning clock to chime
The radio to blare its love songs
Just let me lie
Shrouded in bedroom chaos
Maddened by misery
Anger raging unabated.
Do not lift the blanket
That covers me in the fog of forgetting
And keeps the world at bay
Do not let me hear the cries of our children at the bedroom door
© Sheila Ash, 24th June 2016
Monday, 20 June 2016
At our Creative Writing Group this morning we were looking at emotions and how to write them. Today’s one was Joy.
Out of work clothes, hardly recognisable
he walks across the square, two kids in tow.
One in a chair, pushed in front
a balloon flying Pooh-like from the back.
“For a moment, please, I need to go pee”
he rushes off, leaving me with unrequested responsibility.
“Heads up Jamie” seems to be the key
the balloon the ploy to unlock lost eyes
into a moment of joy.
Goodbyes are said
I stroke his cheek
his eyes release a smile
that leaves me weak.
© Sheila Ash, 20th June 2016
Friday, 10 June 2016
From out of the blue it came
a residue deposited on my shore.
Does curiosity reign supreme
prompting me to open it
this unsolicited gift
for contents which may change my life?
Does compassion compel
its lifting up
its restoration to health and a fruitful life?
Do I return it to whence it came
its fate the decision of others
the uncared for debris of a life unfulfilled?
© Sheila Ash, 6th June 2016
Thursday, 9 June 2016