Wonder

The crunch of an apple,
A hint of a sigh
They wonder longingly
About days gone by

Instinct

My instinct cried wolf,
And I ignored him.
Their instinct cried bite,
So today is grim

Street-lamps

Twinkling street-lamps
Are gently woken by twilight,
The early evening's sky
Afraid of the night

Stitches

There they are again,
The first few stitches
Of my battlefront
Threatening to come undone
To unravel my defense
Until it falls away
Completely
And I'm forced to start again,
To pick up knitting needles off the ground,
Like swords
Or wands
And out of thin air,
And invisible wool
Tie the first few stitches
The first of too many
But somehow, still never enough
I haven't met the last few stitches
They always run away from me
Shy,
Uncertain of the unpredictable.

Night and light

I wonder what you see,

When you close your eyes at night.

What is unable to survive,

And must hide itself in the light.

The Temple

Most of the time,
You’ll find nobody here
But some of the time,
You’ll see somebody here

Perhaps a man, just like me,
Carefully reading the book
So many choose to ignore,
Without offering a second look

I know the feeling,
I’ve known it a while
You see, not ignoring me,
Is permanently out of style

Written as an interpretation of this photo by Timothy Robinson. Check out the real story by clicking on the photo!

August 2013

He asked me the question
That reached deep into my soul,
And handed him a part
Without my control

A question I'd never asked myself
But had always known the answer to
And now he knew,
Too

Unfazed

The sun shone bravely
Through the cold winter air
Unfazed by the mystery,
He may stumble upon there

Where stray dogs
In their restless sleep
Dream of kinder days
And weep.

My attention

My attention dove off a cliff,
A mountain high in the sky
He used aeroplanes as stepping stones,
He'd always wanted to try

He saw his face in the wind,
It wasn't clear at first
An eye at a time, an ear
And then all in a burst

The spaces between the clouds,
Asked him again to stay
He knew he had to go,
But would visit another day

Tell your alarm when to wake,
He's fond of sleeping too
It's purely unintentional,
If he sleeps right through

When the future knocks on your door,

Do not turn it away

For hidden beneath his hat,

May be the brightest day 

1. When you come across a quote that you love, make sure you write it down. Otherwise, you WILL regret it later. I can guarantee that!

Change

I first started this blog in March 2011...this month, it is April 2013. A lot has changed since that first bucket list post. I've ticked a few things off, but I think the greatest change has taken place within me. It's happened gradually, little steps I've taken every now and then in the direction of becoming a person whose skin I'm happier to be living in. And even though I'm not out of the maze yet, I'm putting together the pieces of the map I need to get me out. Someone who's more confident than she used to be, who respects herself more. One who's let go (or at least has weakened her grip on) of caring too much about what other people think of her. Who's stared insecurity in the face and said, you know what? I'm tired of having this conversation with you, I don't really need you. Who let you in? Also, I've become accustomed to living outside of my comfort zone recently. As nerve wracking as it is, it's been thrilling at the same time.

Mug of tea,
Don't you see
How you make me?

The boiling water is mine,
But the comfort is yours
Picking me up when I'm down on the floor

Autumn wind

The Autumn wind,
Encourages leaves
To roll up their sleeves,
And follow their dreams



I know I can do more with this poem...bear with me x

Mr Turtle

In the deepest lake of a city,

A turtle sits in his chair

The entire night he watches,

Without moving a single hair

Fitted between his fingers,

Is a pen of the deepest blue

To the wandering human eye,

It appears as perfectly new

But the turtle knows much better,

Than an ants curious mind

He treasures this ancient relic,

That took so long to find

For years it sat upon a desk,

Shielding itself from the sun

Stuck inside a pencil case

Not knowing where to run

Til the day he was picked up,

Left on a bench in the park

To find his new home in a pocket,

Shortly after dark

From there he travelled the world,

Asia, France, Australia

Only to be dropped in the sand

And discovered by Aurelia

Two books she wrote with that pen,

Their beginning, middle and end

Until it wrote its final word

Ending a sentence with “send”.

On the way to the publisher,

Aurelia dropped her bag

The pen rolled toward a grate,

And slipped behind a rag

Far down it fell,

Gently floating through a lake

Landing on top of a jelly fish,

It managed not to wake

He shook his head frustratedly,

And the pen fell to the floor

Resting with a little nudge

Against a turtles door 

Sara xx 

The Painting

Shoulder to shoulder,

Breathing in time

Two boys watch a painting,

That struggles to rhyme

One thinks of darkness,

The never-ending night

Wrapped up in his blankets,

Or wrapped up in fright?

The other thinks of sunlight,

Streaming through his window
Silently each morning,
Entering on tip-toe

Written as an interpretation of this photo by Timothy Robinson. Check out the real story by clicking on the photo!

 

The ones who won

I'm scared for the thoughts I've forgotten,
The flowers they didn't become

Other thoughts came along
And they are the ones who won

Not what I saw

Mr Frog gave me his hand,
Warm,
Soft,
Exploring the land

Mrs Lion gave me her paw,
Cold,
Slimy,
Not what I saw

Green tea and a chocolate tart..

I was considering changing the name of this blog..

There's this french cafe I go to sometimes. I was first introduced to it by a friend, and although it's a lovely place to go with other people, I really like going there alone.

Last year, I had 10am lectures at the hospital. I'd catch the train into the city and be there about 8:30am, go to this cafe and order green tea and a chocolate tart. This green tea is the nicest smelling green tea I have ever come across! I've tried the chocolate pudding, and a raspberry (strawberry?) muffin, but nothing quite adds up to the chocolate tart. It's just so tasty. Anyway, I'd pull my book out and sit there reading for about an hour before wandering over to the lecture. It was especially nice since it was autumn! It wouldn't be the same if it was summer, I can imagine. I haven't actually been there for months! Hopefully soon :))

Sara xx

She

She turned her head to the right,
She turned her head to the left,
She shifted a lock of hair,
She flicked the switch for the light,
She turned the kettle on,
She bit into the biscuit,
She took out the flour,
She tried to sift it,
She took her cup of tea,
She set it on the bench,
She pulled out a novel,
She tried to read in French,
She pulled on her gloves,
She pulled off her gloves,
She pulled on her socks,
She glided across the floor,
She slipped she tripped she fell,
She pushed her arms up,
She lent back on the couch,
She listened to a CD
She breathed in every word,
She breathed out every word,
She ripped up the paper,
She put together the paper,
She stood up to walk
She picked up the phone,
She punched in some numbers,
She stopped and she talked,
She slept and she wept

The flower and the sun

The flower opened her petals,

To hug the rays of the sun

He smiled down upon her,

And away she turned to run

xx