A Painful Conversation

2002_0903_026_23ac-69What?

Oh, it’s you, you’re back.

When did you go, it doesn’t seem long?

How long are you staying this time?

OK, I guess it’s not much of a welcome but…….

I know no-one else is complaining, but I’m not them.

They don’t have to put up with your moods.

Wouldn’t you rather be somewhere else?

Why do you always have to show up in the middle of the night?

I need to sleep, but you keep interrupting.

Yes, I’ve already taken a tablet.

Never mind, you just don’t understand; it’s all about you.

If you’re staying, I’m going to turn over and try to ignore you.

What?

Unable to Stop the Winds of Change

003Unremarkably, the once still air begins to shift

Unnoticed, a zephyr wafts and eddies at your feet

Unaware, the leaves begin to dance in the breeze, grasses swirl, clouds scud

Unconcerned, draughts probe gently at loose clothing

Unhurried, gusts find purpose pushing against your weight

Unworried, you shield your eyes from wind- borne dust

Unthinking, you look down, leaning into the strengthening blusters

Unsighted, white horses race squall-tossed waves at sea

Uneasily, you brace your feet and set your chin to the storm

Unstable, branches break, boughs bend, roof tiles rattle

Unheard, distant winds circle faster, angrier, roaring, rumbling

Unbalanced, staggering, losing footing, hands clasp for purchase

Uncertain, heart pounding, succour is sought, prayers offered

Unknowing, whether the hurricane will pass, and you will be spared.

Childbirth

via Daily Prompt: Lovingly

 

Nine months gone, labour begun

Pain and panting through gritted teeth

Pushing, urging, willing, wanting

Baby from its muscled sheath

 

A boy, a girl, it doesn’t matter

But let it be healthy, ready for life

Bear down now, it’s nearly here

Comforting words, from the midwife

 

One more push, I can see the head

Arms and shoulders make their way through

Baby’s out, crying for mummy

Wait just a second, we’ll pass him to you

 

A magical moment, as mum takes the child

Wrapped in a blanket, content as can be

Mother and son begin a new journey

Held to the breast, lovingly

Morning

img_0453Westward crawling, sneaking

Stealing distant stars and galaxies

Summoning birds from their roosts

Commanded to herald the dawn

 

Half heard on slow shifting air

The sound near real,

but dimming against the growing chorus

And stirring clatter of movement

 

Night sighs and succumbs

Pulling dreams and fears

Under its dark cloak

Harboured against the bold tide of day.