In Glimpses of Heaven Poetry

Wordy Excuses

2011-04-27T04:41:00.001-07:00

Lord

I was on my way to YOUR HOUSE
BUT
the world got in the way

I was on my way to PRAISE you
THEN
the world got in the way

I was on my way to THANK YOU
AGAIN
the world got in the way

I was on my way to WORSHIP you
STILL
the world got in the way

I was on my way to SHARE with you
SOMEHOW
the world got in the way

I was on my way to CONFIDE in you
UNTIL
the world got in the way

I was on my way to ASK of you
WHEN
the world got in the way

I was on my way to SING to you
ALAS
the world got in the way...

I am here now Lord
Forgive me Lord
That's what I need to say
The world and its distractions
Can wait until another day.

© Ellen Johns 2011

The Path

2010-08-22T15:42:00.000-07:00

Psalm 37 verse 23 and 24
''IF YOU DO WHAT THE LORD WANTS
HE WILL MAKE CERTAIN
EACH STEP YOU TAKE IS SURE
THE LORD WILL HOLD YOUR HAND
AND IF YOU STUMBLE
YOU STILL WON'T FALL''

At times it is steep
and a struggle to climb
It's hard to keep up
And you feel left behind.

Or the road's full of potholes
The passage unsafe
You hold in your breath
With each step you dare take

Wear your backpack of faith
Put your trust in the Guide
He will map out your route
And stay close by your side

There are times when the pathway
Is so overgrown
Your view is obscured
As you tread the unknown

Sometimes you may come to
A fork in the road
Ask Him for directions
Unburden your load

Put your hand in the Lord's
And don't ever let go
Follow closely His footsteps
And spiritually grow

The path that you follow
May sometimes be smooth
A journey so easy
With little to prove

So, look over your shoulder
And see who you find
It may be they're stumbling
And falling behind

Look out for the lost
As you travel your road
Show them Christ's compass
And lighten their load

It points to salvation
A cross for our sin
A life lived in fullness
Whilst walking with Him.

© Ellen Johns

Him

2010-08-09T02:39:00.001-07:00

No documents inscribed to mark His birth.
No bones decayed beneath our ancient earth.

No DNA to scrutinise or scan,
genetic profile of this living man.

No labyrinth of lines on digits dipped,
in inky fluid, staining finger tips.

No records found depicting dental health,
nor tax returns assessing personal wealth.

No school reports of childhood progress saved,
for parents' to admire how He behaved.

No portrait or a profile roughly etched,
no picture of this man was ever sketched.

No film or footage of His living years.
No wife to share the burdens and the tears.

No keepsakes or creations that He made,
have ever been discovered or displayed.

No audio recordings ever there,
the voice that caused a heathen's heart to stir.
And yet............

A life no other man has ever matched.
In multimillion seller still dispatched.

The symbol of His death, a simple cross,
adorns our necks in memory of such loss.

He is the landlord of all holy places,
all visitors He lovingly embraces.

His name is praised in victory, cursed in vain,
is whispered by the lonely and in pain.

Is screamed out loud in times of desperation,
and mouthed in silence during dedication.

His presence, ever constant, ever real
Enables us to live, to love, to heal

The only being blessed with pure perfection,
should be the focus of our hearts' affection.

He was, is, and always will be....Jesus Christ, saviour of humanity.

© Ellen Johns 2007

Gem

2010-08-01T06:14:00.003-07:00

You have been on loan to me for such a small portion of the whole of your lifetime.
Time that has been begged for, borrowed and sometimes stolen.
We have refused to let distance deny us our discussion, illness interfere with our intimate moments, or depression dominate our dreams.

Time is not only your enemy, but also mine. Medication is a weak weapon and an even weaker defence in the war that rages inside you. The only respite you receive, is the love for your family and your faith in Him.

We have experienced a moment in time, never to occur again. Like two tiny grains of sand on the biggest beach, we have been blown towards each other,colliding and settling in a place unknown. A mutual acknowledgement of each others existence has brought about an empathy and understanding only we will ever know.

Like an orchestra of emotions we have played them all. A duet in harmony. There have been many silent pauses and instrumental breaks, but there has always been an underlying rhythm to our repertoire, always a finale before the final note.

As your expiry date arrives, how I pray for the library of loss to be closed. For a renewal that has been renewed on so many occassions, to be renewed again; for a sequel or a second edition.

But I am not the author or narrator of your life, and only He knows what is written, not just for you but for us all.

So I cannot say goodbye to you, and I will not, because you are so alive in my head, in my mind, and most of all in my heart..

When I hold the uncut, freshly mined gems of green you have sent to me, I will cherish them always and remember that a beautiful gem, shining in a shop window started out as a grey, jagged lump of rock, just as I was before I met you, lacklustre.
Until you chipped away at the debris and polished my fallen ego, making me sparkle.

In another time, another place, we would have expired together in the twilight of life. Watching the sun's descent into her watery bed as we closed our eyes and sighed in unison.

© Ellen Johns

One grain of sand.

2010-08-01T05:46:00.000-07:00

rocking horse rainbow
tilts
colour splattered sky

cross eternal black
on star stepping stones

cumulus
meandering meadows
white and blue

global cooling light
million moths are drawn

slumber
neath sun's hearth
ember glow within

weather vane
circle spins in
wind of fate

Heaven's gates pearls regression
grains of sand
through fingers.

© Ellen Johns

Dream

2010-08-01T05:34:00.001-07:00

I have this dream and you join me there
We love each other like we were meant to be loved
Share the most secret secrets
Accept the past and focus on the future
Do things together and create our futures' happy memories
Absorb each others pain
Are two halves of one whole
Protect each other from harm
Have no hidden shame
Know who we are and where we are going
Find inner peace
Remember every day is precious
Live for each other
Make up for all the lost time
Laugh away the sadness
Live to live and not to die
We are two twinkling stars
Glowing with love
Calm each other in crisis
Shelter each other from the harshness of life
Undo all the damage, unravel the mess
Swell with pride because of each other
Fight for each others honour
Kiss until our lips are numb
Unlock those locked away feelings
See the bigger picture
Heal together, treating the wounds
Trust each other with our lives
Listen to each other, ignoring the rest
Look into each others eyes and see ourselves
Cry for the last time
Have dreams of our own
Have all our questions answered
Make our peace with God
Conceive a child and surround it with love
Remain soulmates forever...

I am awake now and you are standing there.
Do I embrace the reality of you?
Or do I go back to sleep?

© Ellen Johns

Whilst you slept.

2010-08-01T05:13:00.001-07:00

As I lay wide awake, whilst you slept through the night
I thought about us and how things just weren't right
As I studied that rise and the fall of your chest
I wondered what we should both do for the best

As I heard you sigh deeply, content in your sleep
I knew you weren't mine then, to hold and to keep
As you sighed and you smiled I knew I wasn't there
I guessed you were spending your dream-time with her.

As I thought of the mundane routine of our day
You were lost in the magic, with her far away
As I kissed you so softly and whispered goodbye
I reminded myself that I really did try.

As the tears rolled down slowly I spoke with you then
And thanked you for all the good times we had spent
As I crept out of bed and I crept down the stairs
I decided to leave you, to leave you with her.

As the sun rose and night left, you'd wake up alone
Be free of the burden of our loveless home
As I cried and I sobbed as my heart filled with grief
I imagined you holding her filled with relief.

© Ellen Johns

How can it be?

2010-08-01T04:59:00.000-07:00

A vicar who doesn't practice what he preaches

A midwife delivering a child
who has never experienced childbirth

A policeman/woman walking the beat
who has never been the victim of a crime

A dentist performing procedures
who has never had a tooth pulled

A surgeon performing surgery
who has never woken up in a recovery room

A marriage guidance therapist
who has never walked up the aisle

A psychiatrist who has never had
an unfounded worry in his/her life

A property developer
who has never lived in a high rise flat

A high court judge who has never
set foot inside a prison

A travel agent who has never
boarded a plane

A family doctor who has never
had an embarrassing personal problem.

© Ellen Johns

Stepping Stone

2010-08-01T04:46:00.001-07:00

Do your kicks come from watching me falling apart?
Did you plan my destruction way back at the start?
Was it premeditated, all part of your game?
Was your mission to drive me completely insane?

Did your heart leap for joy when I fell into line?
When you had full control and you thought ''now she's mine''
To use an abuse me, my body, my mind
All the time me believing your motives were kind.

All the lines that you fed me, the ones I mistook
I fell for them totally, now I'm screwed up
And the grudge you've been bearing for such a long time
Has been held against me but it wasn't my crime.

It belonged to another, who is stronger you see
But she wouldn't take it and so you chose me
To finish the job, the last on your list,
Was to take away something you knew I would miss.

So my pills were withdrawn and I needed you more
But all you were doing was settling a score
I don't think you realise, how hard I tried
Or how many times that I broke down and cried.

I can't function without them, you know that is true
To crush me completely your love you withdrew
So now that you've done what you set out to do
I'll pick up the pieces and think it all through.

I wish I had met you a decade ago
When my head was held high and not hanging low
So my mission right now is to get on and live
Dig deep down inside and learn to forgive.

Though I struggle with life, one fine day I will cope
Until that day comes I will wait and will hope
I don't blame you for leaving, your time with me's done
Now go live your life and make sure you have fun.

The year you've had with me has given you space
To rebuild your life and to find your own place
A person once said I would end up alone
Because I'd become just a brief stepping stone.

I've now served my purpose and split up from you
That person's prediction was certainly true
Some people are destined to live all alone
And two minus one means they'll be on their own.

© Ellen Johns

Signs

2010-07-30T03:41:00.000-07:00

When I talk, you hear a foreign voice
I want to see the picture, you've changed the channel
I am only mid-chapter, you've finished the book
When my light is on, you sit in the shadows
My touch is warm, you shiver with cold
I'm following the storyline, you have lost the plot
When I hold you, you hold back
I look at you, you stare past me
I'm living my life, you're biding your time
I think of the good times, you don't recall
I know that it's over, you are relieved.

© Ellen Johns

Who is she?

2010-07-30T03:37:00.000-07:00

I'm looking in the mirror, I'm not sure who I see
An unfamiliar person, is staring back at me
Her eyes are lost and searching, her face is pale and drawn
She doesn't know the time of day, midnight, noon or dawn.

She knows that once upon a time, not many years ago
She knew where she was going, her eyes outdid the lows
But somewhere in her life, a trauma took its grip
And started her descension on a lengthy nightmare trip.

She'll never know the answer, maybe it's just not there
She hasn't given up yet, it could be there somewhere
It may have been mislaid, or forgotten in the files
Or maybe lost in transit, as notes have crossed the miles.

It may not even be there, is just a distant dream
But someone somewhere knows it,they just have not come clean
So she will keep on searching, for many years to come
Until she finds an answer, undoes the damage done.

Meanwhile she'll keep on going, and hope a cure's in sight
Until the rainbow comes and she can see her shining light
How long she'll wait's a mystery, she doesn't know herself
Until that revelation, she'll battle with her health.

© Ellen Johns

This Christmas Time

2010-07-26T06:43:00.000-07:00

As a church let us shine like a star on the tree
Be a beacon of hope in a troublesome sea
Let us stride out and manage that one extra mile
Replace every frown with a welcoming smile.

Be approachable, open, be patient and kind
Be that person whom others are trying to find
Hold a friend for whom touch has been lost on the way
Lend an ear to that person who dreads each new day.

Raise our voices in song not in harshness of word
Let the music begin and the message be heard
Throw our doors open wide, light a fire in the grate
Reach out for the lost who are passing our gate.

Take a moment to chat with the folks on their own
Break the silence they live with, in being alone
As we open our gifts, let our thoughts drift afar
To those places on earth that are ravaged by war.

Hear our prayers for those nations for horrors to cease
And pour down your blessings of true Christmas peace.
Be close by us this Christmas and help us we pray
Share the gift of Christ's birth, with who passes our way.

© Ellen Johns

Compassion

2010-07-26T06:26:00.000-07:00

Today, as we sit in this part of our world
Another place, far away, slowly unfurls
A place where their children, don't have a good start
These children we need to hold dear to our hearts.

Help us face the reality, quash the illusion
The basics of life aren't a foregone conclusion
Where parents are absent through war or ill-health
And little ones left to just fend for themselves.

Abandoned, unwanted, to wander and roam
In search of that place, the place we all call home.
Where meals aren't consistent and hunger prevails
And life is a permanent, hard bed of nails.

Where water is precious, not wasted in fun
Each drop is respected in hot drying sun.
Where a desk in a school is a hope, not a right
And the future is something that doesn't look bright.

Where fear is the ruler and safety unsure
Diseases are rife even though there's a cure
We pray for aid workers, in all that they do
Help us to support them and Your love shine through.

Please open our eyes to our duty of care
And strengthen the carers today, who are there
Bless all the world's children and help them we pray
To feel loved by You, each and every day.

© Ellen Johns

Let Go

2010-06-23T03:34:00.000-07:00

A time for thought, a time for prayer
Some time for me when no one's there
A time to drop a gear or two
Reflect on life, plan what to do
A time to breathe away the stress
To tidy up a lifetimes mess
A time to let my barriers down
To cry so much I almost drown
A time to file away my fears
Discard them with those wasted years
A time to reassure myself
And keep intact my mental health
A time to grieve, a time to pine
To realise that you're not mine
A time to understand that you
Need time alone, to be you too
So you can close the final page
And come to terms with middle age
Begin again at chapter one
But this time round include some fun
Fulfil your dreams and reach your aims
Avoid mistakes, prevent more pain
Have faith in things that you believe
Reach your potential, thrive, achieve
I feel rejected, feel disowned
But know you need to be alone
I know deep down you really care
But can't proceed if I am there
So I have got to let you go
Although I'm lonely, sad and low
To hold you back would be so wrong
Whilst you are trying to be strong
I need to draw my own life map
And plan my journey, not look back.

© Ellen Johns

Heaven's Back Door

2010-06-23T03:24:00.001-07:00

Is there a little space for me in Heaven?
I will fit in to the smallest corner
I will make my own way there
No angel escort required
I will quietly slip in through the back door.

© Ellen Johns

Has Been

2010-06-23T03:20:00.000-07:00

I'm an innocent infant
Now traumatised teen
I'm a weary traveller
Unsure where I've been
I'm a cute little puppy
Who has grown to full size
I'm a ship with a hole in
About to capsize
I'm a boy band forgotten
When shaving begins
I'm a bride or a groom
With no shine to my ring
I'm a joke with no punch line
All humour erased
I'm a good little child
Still awaiting some praise
I'm a palette of paint
Full of one colour, grey
I'm a sigh of exhaustion
At the close of the day
I'm a confidence seeker
With white tapping stick
I'm a keystone that's buckling
Under its bricks.

© Ellen Johns

A Thank-you

2010-06-23T03:13:00.000-07:00

For the privilege of conception
For the miracle of pregnancy
For the unique pain and joy of childbirth
For the euphoria
that follows
For the blessing of a new life
For the overwhelming emotion
For the creation of a family
For the ability to nourish
For the capability to nurture
For the guidance of instinct and nature
For the unconditional love given and received
For that first smile and step
For kisses and hugs so plentiful
For laughter, giggles and fun
For the maturity to handle such responsibility
For the proudest of moments
For the endless rewards
For such a strong sense of purpose
For a beautiful daughter.

© Ellen Johns

Learn

2010-06-23T03:04:00.000-07:00

With a heart as broken in so many places as mine
With an ego as fragile as a spider's web
With a past as turbulent as a stormy sea
With memories that haunt me as a ghost would
With self esteem as low as a weeping willow
With thoughts as poisonous as a snake bite
With ambitions trampled into the ground
With a career placed on a dusty shelf
With a love that's been locked in a dark cellar
With years of tears to reflect on
With a chemist full of pills consumed
With a lifelong winter and occasional summer
With smiles stalled before they've begun
With poems inspired only by pain
With plays of tragedy, playing the lead
With innocence robbed before I could write
With loved ones lost, gone forever
With emotions on permanent hold
With anger simmering away
With paranoia taking away my space
With people shouting in my face
With all that I love, slipping away
With bad dreams confirming, all that I say
With crisis and drama at every turn
When will I learn?

© Ellen Johns

Ripples

2010-06-23T02:54:00.000-07:00

We're the ripples, you're the stone
That dropped into our pond
But now the picture's bigger
Breaking boundaries and beyond.

A giant boulder catapulted
Into our vast sea
A tiny seed has grown
Into a weeping willow tree..

You're steadfast in the middle
Whilst we're all on the edge
The trawlers are at work
And our sea is being dredged.

Who knows what they'll discover
In the murky depths below
Just how much trawling will it take
Before we get to know.

You're the ship afloat and sailing
We're the wrecks beneath your bow
We're hoping to be rescued
Though we don't know when or how.

Restored and resurrected
Rid of rust and years of wear
You won't be there to see it
When we're launched out of despair.

You're tangled in the nets now
Trapped in darkness, void of light
So give in to the tides of time
Admit that we were right.

You're going down oh sunken ship
And everyone will see
We'll say a little prayer
For those at peril on the sea.

© Ellen Johns

Buried (a poem about trying to reach someone)

2010-06-08T04:15:00.000-07:00

You're like a buried treasure chest
Placed deep beneath the ground
Just biding time and waiting
For the day you will be found
A solid wood exterior
Protects what is within
Prevents escaping feelings
And ensures love can't get in.

But only when the key is found
Will you unlock and speak
The problem is I have no key
And don't know where to seek
I only see the cover,
Can't open up the book
I've shouted through the keyhole
But never had much luck.

Hoping you will hear my fears
But you just cannot see
Words have fallen on deaf ears
It wasn't meant to be.
The holder of that key
Will have the access to your heart
Release your inner feelings
And let love finally start.

I'd love to find
The missing key
And know
It's mine to keep
But you are locked
And I can't dig
You're buried
WAY TOO DEEP.

© Ellen Johns

Mellow

2010-06-08T04:07:00.000-07:00

Alone at last
With the perfect alibi
A date with death
Appointments rescheduled
Until the twelfth of never
My conscience is filed away
My feelings are in suspended animation
Paused in time
My heart beats wildly
As if it knows it will beat no more
An art gallery of memories
Are etched in my mind's eye
I am mellow in the morbidity of it all
My attempt to rescue myself
From life.

© Ellen Johns

Ticking Clock

2010-06-08T04:01:00.000-07:00

Thoughts arrive with no invitation like unwelcome guests
Tears fall, each one containing a million particles of pain
Memories like silent movies, pictures, no sound
Sadness like a shadow, always with you.
Beauty all around hidden behind frosted glass
Silent screaming, filling your head with noise
Joy, as elusive as the Holy Grail
Refelection of a stranger in every mirror
Pills and potions postpone the pain
Dreams are just a sequel to the day
Ticking clocks remind you of passage of time
And more of the same.

© Ellen Johns

You

2010-06-08T03:54:00.000-07:00

You are my brolly in the rain
You are the medicine for my pain
You are the scaffold, I am the tower
When I feel weak, you are my power.

You extinguish all my fears
You are the tissues for my tears
You are the Scotch-guard for my soul
I am the fire, you are the coal.

You are my hero, you are my knight
Fight my corner, honour my rights
You are the anchor for my boat
Always ensure I stay afloat.

You are my life support machine
When I give up on every dream
You are the cleaner, I am the mess
You are my haven, when I'm distressed.

You are the joker,always the clown
When I am low and feeling real down
You will go the extra mile
To ensure I raise a smile.

You are my safety belt in life
You protect me from the strife
When my heart is torn in two
You repair it with your glue.

In a tunnel, you are my light
You are the only thing that's right
When I reach for one more drug
You replace it with a hug.

My Samaritan indeed
Always there when I'm in need.

© Ellen Johns

Low (a poem about depression/anxiety)

2010-06-08T03:36:00.000-07:00

When the sky looks a hostile dark grey
And you dread wading through one more day
When the sun fails to rise and to set
This is as low as it gets.

When you stare at a beautiful view
But the beauty just can't filter through
Though you know it's a sight to behold
It's loveliness just won't unfold.

When you worry and panic and fret
About things that most people forget
To let go would bring total relief
But anxiety bubbles beneath.

When the knot in your throat's always there
And the people you love just don't care
When you think of the future and cry
And your main aim in life is to die.

When your thoughts are the blackest of black
And your thinking is under attack
When your memories are hard to recall
Like they're hiding behind a brick wall.

When the people you know seem unreal
And they've lost their attraction, appeal
When the physical closeness has died
Though you've needed it, how hard you've tried.

When the chaos spins round in your head
There's no sleep to be had in your bed
Though your body's exhausted, expired
Your mind is alive, never tired.

© Ellen Johns

You Honestly Thought

2010-06-08T03:13:00.000-07:00

You honestly thought I loved you
How naive

You honestly thought I cared
How touching

You honestly thought my laughter was genuine
How convincing

You honestly thought I respected you
How amusing

You honestly thought I understood
How vulnerable

You honestly fell for all the lies I fed you
How gullible

You honestly thought I believed your every word
How ironic

You honestly thought we had a future
How shortsighted

You honestly thought I desired your body
How egotistical

You honestly thought I was faithful
How unlikely

You honestly thought I was your ticket to the good life
How selfish

You honestly thought you could make me believe you're something you're not
How deluded

You honestly thought I would never leave you
How optimistic

You have genuinely thought all these things...
How you have underestimated me.

© Ellen Johns

Doubt (a poem asking for reassurance)

2010-06-08T03:05:00.000-07:00

How do I know you'll stick by me
Through the troubles and hardships of life
Will you be like an anchor in gale force
Just because you have made me your wife.

Can I guarantee your love for ever
When the future has plans of its own
When are lives are so fragile, uncertain
With a large element of unknown.

What would I do if you left me
Like a snail I'd recoil in my shell
Like a climber who'd just reached the summit
Lost his footing then tumbled and fell.

How would I live life without you
Like a rose in a drought I would fade
Like a child at the seaside in Summer
On the sand with no bucket and spade.

How would I cope with the silence
Like a band with no musical score
Like a Christmas with no carol singers
Never listening for you at the door.

Reassure me and hold me much closer
At the end of this long and hard day
Tell me everything's fine and you love me
And you'll never be going away.

© Ellen Johns

Look at That! (a poem about drug abuse)

2010-06-08T02:39:00.000-07:00

His body's slumped against the wall
His usual poise? Or careless fall?
His hair is matted, tinged with white
He wonders if it's day or night.

His teeth are yellow, caked in plaque
His lips are cracked, his nails are black
His clothes are grey, ingrained with dirt
Those ''too big trousers'', ''too small shirt''.

His skin is pale, his acne raw
The culprit lies there on the floor
A rusty needle, harbouring dirt
Releasing poison with each squirt.

With body shaking, sleeve undone
He wonders what he has become
His veins collapsed from over use
A yellow abscess proves abuse.

His arm is thin, his bones protrude
His system's crying out for food
He head hangs low, he feels the shame
He only has himself to blame

He did try running, tried to hide
From this injected suicide
Before you turn and walk away
Please take a closer look today.

Beside the syringe, down on the floor
Propped up against the grocer's door
A single tatty birthday card
Now read the words, I know it's hard.

''Congratulations to my son
Today's your day, you're 21''
I placed it there last Friday night
I stroked his face and held him tight.

Those haunted eyes look up and stared
The silent words, ''Help, Mum I'm scared''
To think that I could end his pain
And put his life on track again.

To put an end to endless tears
Eradicate the last two years
Repair the damage, see him clean
Would be my one and only dream.

But I will not deceive myself
Not you, or him, or anyone else
He's now a wilting, dying flower
Controlled, beholding to its power.

The drug that makes me rant and rave
The drug that makes him beg and crave
I turn back time, he's on my knee
I put his bib on, fetch his tea(a meal)

I guide the spoon towards his lips
But now that spoon dissolves his fix
I watch you stare and judge and moan
''Where is your son? Is he at home?''

All safe and sound and drug immune
Or does he play a different tune?''
My boy was bright, he knew the score
He went to college, studied law

A life so full, until that day
He found a different game to play
This drug's not choosy, not select
It just wants in to take effect.

To introduce the high of highs
And fool you with the lie of lies
No child is safe, not black nor white
No time is safe, not day or night.

No place is safe, not here or there
We're all unsafe, we're unaware
So when you next walk past my lad
Remember he's not all that bad.

He's locked inside a sealed tomb
The child I carried in my womb
And I'm his Mum, not even me
Can stop his tragic destiny.

© Ellen Johns

Ste (Happy 40th Birthday Poem for my brother)

2010-06-03T04:42:00.001-07:00

Ste (40th Birthday Poem)

40 years ago today
Steven Streat arrived
He had a shaky start in life
But managed to survive

Steven likes his football
A Leeds fan all his life
They’ve had their share of victory
And endless years of strife

Despite the relegations
Their poor performance too
You’ll always see our Steven
In yellow, white and blue

The bookies is his second home
He bets on every race
He doesn’t win that often
But it’s still his favourite place

He backs the horses, backs the dogs
Then stands there in the queue
Waiting for his winnings
With rich old Mr.Woo

He walks with Holly every day
Across the nearby mountain
And every night rewards himself
With Shona’s chocolate fountain

A pack of ‘’Flakes’’ sit in the fridge
A day past sell-by date
Waste not, want not, Ste don’t mind
He’ll eat the pack of eight.

It wasn’t many years ago
That Steven was a rake
But now he’s gone the other way
And gained a bit of weight.

We used to buy him small sized tops
Because he was so thin
But now we buy him XXL
And hope he squeezes in.

I've got to give it to you Ste
It's gone beyond a joke
You've had that abscess ten years now
It needs a dental poke!

‘’It needn’t be hell with Nicotinell’’
Unless Ste is your name
He sticks a patch on both his arms
And still puffs like a train....

Written by Marie and Becky x

Winter (Marie aged 10 yrs)

2010-05-20T09:27:00.000-07:00

Winter is back once again, sweeping across the land with its contents of frost, snow, wind and hail.
Trees stand, shed of their leaves as though without clothing.
Garden birds fight against the Winter weather, hunting for crumbs, that some kind person may have left out for them on a windowsill.
The snowdrop, so brave and fearless also has to face the dangers and enemies of Winter, like gales and winds.
The earth is hard and frostbitten. Dull and dreary is the grey sky.
No clouds float by, just emptiness.
A white mass of snow covers the land like a furry carpet.
Children wrap up warm in wellies and scarves and roll around in the snow.
Some build snowmen handsome and tall, others go sledging on a nearby hill.
Smoke puffs out of chimneys as the coal fires blaze.
The fir trees stand sturdy and straight, as they bear the weight of the snow.
Oh Winter! How beautiful you are.

Marie aged 10 yrs, St.George's school.

The Volcano (aged 10 years)

2010-05-20T09:19:00.000-07:00

Scorching lava flowing down
Like a river in the town
Rocks cascading, tumbling, smashing
Burning trees to the ground are crashing.

A heated pool lays on the peak
Men are shouting, women shriek
Children are running as fast as they can
The lavas' bubbling like an over-flowed pan

Volcano, volcano, so angry and frightening
Much stronger than thunder
Much stronger than lightening.

Eating your way through forests and towns
Your lava it slithers along the ground.

Marie aged 10 yrs St.George's School.

You are not here today...

2010-05-20T02:21:00.000-07:00

We are staring out of our window at what was not long ago,
your home, but is now just a red brick house with the curtains drawn.
We are waiting for you to come down your path with your usual wave and lovely smile.

Fizz is sniffing the air, to try and pick up the scent of your little man ''Rocky''.

They took you yesterday in a black shiny car and Rocky in a little wire kennel.How I wish they would bring you back.

You visited before you left and you held my hand and told me how glad you were that we were friends and thanked me for being good to you. Rocky and Fizz played, as happy in their friendship as we were in ours.

What I wouldn't do to change the tense of what I have just written.
Were you saying goodbye to us Jayne? The voice of Bob Dylan is playing as we endlessly stare, the cd you gave me on Friday.

''The answer my friend is blowing in the wind'' is the only line I hear.
We are waiting for you to walk up our mountain, but know you are not coming today Jayne, because yesterday you died, so we have to walk without you.

Goodbye my lovely friend.

In loving memory of Jayne.

Reach You

2010-05-20T02:04:00.000-07:00

we tried to reach you
tried to hold out to you
encouraging words
loving gestures
hellos
goodbyes

was this enough
could this hold back
the wave
about to crash upon your shore

sweet sweet lady

where did you go
you smiled
laughed
told us you were fine

rana a thousand miles
with your laughing eyes
ran away
away from us

tell us you are safe
and free
and laughing still
tell us everything
we need to hear

goodbye

In loving memory of Jayne
October 1962-August 2003)

Stress

2010-05-20T01:58:00.000-07:00

I'm at my wits end
Could you meet me there
I'm having a nightmare
Could you shake me awake
I've run out of steam
Will you stoke up my fire
My batteries are low
Would you put me on charge
I've been tied up all day
Could you loosen my bonds
I'm snowed under with work
Can you come dig me out
I'm in bits
Would you piece me back together
I keep being put on hold
Please you hold me tonight
This is the last straw
Kindly pass me some more
This can't be happening
Pinch me hard
I'm having a breakdown
Could you call the AA
I can't take anymore...

© Ellen Johns

One Without the other

2010-05-14T04:21:00.000-07:00

Without you I'm a.....
snail without a shell
a church without a bell
a candle with no wick
a joker with no trick
an arrow with no bow
a Christmas with no snow
a tree that bears no fruit
a tie without a suit
a clock with broken hands
a beach with stones not sand
an illness with no cure
a priest who isn't pure
a star without a name
a genius with no fame
a kite without a breeze
a tree without its leaves
an actor with no lines
a cellar with no wines
a landscape in the fog
a shepherd with no dog
a traveller with no map
a cat without a flap
a farmer with no field
a harvest with no yield
a bucket with no spade
a queen without a maid
a hand without a thumb
a singer who's struck dumb
a fire without a flame
a player with no game
a bride without a groom
a night without a moon
we aren't one without the other.....

© Ellen Johns

Aviary Of Aquaintances

2010-05-14T04:07:00.000-07:00

Aquaintances
like birds
descend upon my domain

Sparrows
reliable
timid and abundant

Peacocks
proud, preening their feathers
intensify my inadequacies

Canaries
sing in confinement
bring melody to life

Vultures
await my downfalls
and swoop

Birds of Paradise
make me question
my quality of life

Hawks
hover, hold me in their vision
watching my every move

Doves
with calming quality
bring peace and tranquility

Solitary magpie
appears uninvited
stirs up pessimism

Robins
seasonal, a sight to behold
but gone too soon

Ostriches
heads buried in the sand
shy away from my pain

Cuckoos
outgrow me
push me away

Seagulls
scavenging
invade my space, stael what is mine

Turkeys
doomed defeatists
fate inevitable

Dodos
all in my head
never existed

Pteradactyl
there from the start
lifelong friend

© Ellen Johns

Halloween (age 9 years)

2010-05-14T03:59:00.000-07:00

Halloween (one of my earliest poems, written at aged 9 years)

It has come, the night is dark
The owl breaks the silence with shuddering hoots
Two hours 'till midnight
The witches prepare their wicked spells
Goblins and demons quarrel amongst themselves
Elves and gnomes quickly scurry under leaves and toadstools
Lest they be turned into an ugly frog
Little children peer through steamed up windows
Hoping that they might see a witch or two
Flying above the chimney pots
Pumpkins glow in the dark, like evil cat's eyes
Who knows what might happen next?
The moon hides behind a cloud of darkness
A mist travels through the forest
Squirrels hide in their holes, full of fear
Halloween is here

Marie aged 9, St.George's school.

Chasing Rainbows

2010-05-14T03:49:00.000-07:00

There have been so many rainbows
I have chased them all

Some were out of my reach
I couldn't rise to their height

Some were so far away, too distant
I didn't have the courage to chase them

Some were so brightly coloured, that when touched
Their colours merged and faded

Some appeared out of the blue
And disappeared as rapidly

Some were so transparent
Their vibrant colours didn't show

Some just failed to appear
Even when sun and rain met

And then one day I caught my rainbow
A beautiful bow within my grasp

Perfectly formed with rich and vibrant colours
That overwhelmed me

I held my rainbow
I cherished my rainbow

I loved my rainbow
It had a pot of gold at its end

But when I reached out to touch it
The gold was no longer there

I chased and caught my rainbow
But I lost the pot of gold

© Ellen Johns

Quest For Peace

2010-05-10T07:00:00.000-07:00

What a week it had been, constant work and no rest
With a permanent migraine and ongoing stress
So I beckoned my whippet and put on her leash
For a trek round Llandudno in search of some peace

With a day to ourselves, we set off up the street
With my backpack in situ and boots on my feet
Trudged over the golf course, saw landscapes galore
And eventually landed down on the West Shore

Where I sat in the dunes, drifted off in a trance
When all of a sudden, the whole Tour De France
Whizzed past at great speed, left a shower of sand
Up my nose, in my hair, it decided to land

So I shook myself down, made my way to the lake
Saw a family of swans, a few ducks and a drake
As they gracefully swam, they created such calm
Which was promptly disturbed by a noisy alarm

Of a WW2" frigate being launched by a man
With the smuggest of looks and remote in his hand
So I hiked up the Haulfre and flopped on a bench
But was suddenly swamped by a gut-wrenching stench

I located the source with a couple of sniffs
The Dino-Rod van which was causing the whiffs
As the men probed the drains with their cameras and wires
I jogged through the gardens with watery eyes

So I carried on walking, still searching for peace
And arrived at the toll bar with relative ease
Round the Orme, that's the place, out of reach and remote
Not a person in sight, just the odd sheep or goat

On a cliff edge I sat and stared out at the sea
Alone and so quiet, with my dog next to me
And just as my thoughts drifted off on the tide
I heard the Orme tour bus approaching behind

It chugged ever closer and squealed to a halt
And thirty loud tourists began their assault
With pac-a-macs flapping and brollies galore
They whipped out their cameras and snapped at the shore

The goats ran for cover, the wildlife lay low
I sighed very loudly and said ''right, let's go''.
I decided to lunch at the end of the pier
Watched the fishermen sit with a rod and a beer

As I opened my mouth and proceeded to bite
I was scared half to death, had a terrible fright
My cheese salad hambone, was snatched from my grip
By a cheeky fat gull, on a food stealing trip

I regained my composure and headed for town
Feeling totally shaken and ever so down.
My quest for some peace had been so unsuccessful
My day ''just for me'' had been ever so stressful

I looked in the shops and I started to brood
I passed M and S, saw their slogan for food
Then there on the left with the doors open wide
Was our welcoming church so I headed inside

Ever so grateful to flop on a seat
With one tired back and two aching feet
But my mouth formed a smile, my aching soon ceased
This isn't just peace...it's God's peace.

© Ellen Johns

Water

2010-05-10T06:48:00.000-07:00

Water is life, sustaining all things
Water at birth, bursts and new life emerges
Water is death, to drown is to die
Water, a grave, a burial at sea
Water in tears to express how we feel
Water refreshes and cleanses the skin
Water is therapy, uplifting lifeless limbs
Water for swimming, exercise, sport
Water is sacred, in Lourdes' healing powers
Water is holy, above Catholic doors
Water to wine, a miracle past
Water for baptism, crossing small heads
Water is small, a raindrop, a splash
Water is vast, a gigantic sea
Water is deafening, rapids and falls
Water is silent, a slow flowing stream
Water as steam in purifying sauna
Water as ice, floating in a gin and tonic
Water is prayed for in deserts of drought
Water is cursed in cold, icy showers
Whatever its form, water is God's essential liquid.

© Ellen Johns

Grace

2010-05-10T06:36:00.000-07:00

You sat and ate your meal
Struggled with every mouthful
I sat opposite you, full of my own misery
Feeling like the walls of my life were caving in.

And then you did something
You bowed your head
Clenched your hands tight, crinkled up your eyes
And said Grace.

I felt humble and ashamed
Everything was then put into perspective for me
Despite all the turmoil in your head
You still had the respect to thank God

To thank Him for the meal placed before you
I then said an inward prayer of my own, with eyes wide open
A similar prayer, with the timing all wrong
How I admired you, you, brave man

Retaining your faith despite all the odds
I started to cry and left the table
A wiser person for sharing that one meal with you
Deep in thought as I silently walked away.

© Ellen Johns

Horizon

2010-05-10T06:30:00.000-07:00

Aligned at a perfect angle
I sit on horizon's ledge
Absorbing a landscape of liquid
Paper thin moon crowns my head

No landmarks upon which to focus
All natural life not displayed
The silence so strangely fulfilling
A peace only He could have made.

© Ellen Johns

Crushed

2010-05-10T06:27:00.001-07:00

So many last dances
So many wasted chances
So many risks so blindly taken
So many hours of my heart breaking
So many men who've come and gone
So very different every one
So many days of feeling wrong
So many times I've not being strong
So many tears have fallen
So many voices calling
So many things both said and done
So many losers, no one's won
So many blatant lies
So many sad goodbyes
So many traumas, so much pain
So little happiness to gain
So much suspicion, lack of trust
So many lovers crushed to dust.

© Ellen Johns

Juliet

2010-05-08T03:54:00.000-07:00

Oh my sweet Juliet
You never had the chance to meet your Romeo
So beautiful on the inside and out
But disease took hold and you never stood a chance
You were so very brave
Right until the very end
So calm and uncomplaining
How I admired your courage and still do
When life gets me down I think of you
You came with me when I was ill
You were so tired you fell asleep on the chair outside
So much surgery to remove the disease
It's a wonder you weren't on your knees
You were always asking how I was
And you were dying, fading away
I remember thinking
How you would never again be able
To listen to the reggae music you loved so much
Or feel your Romeo's tender touch
Nicola took your ebony hand in her little hand
My ivory hand in the other
She kissed your hand and then mine
Loved us both
She called you ''Ju Ju''
A week before you died you phoned me
A Sunday
You were laughing, telling a funny story
I was choking back the tears as I listened
My last afternoon with you was so sad, but so very special
We sat comfortably, amidst the pain of it all
Your Mum brought you warm cereal on a tray
My insides felt like they were being torn out
My lovely friend
How I wish you had found your Romeo
He would have loved you so much
All my love
Marie

Nowhere

2010-05-08T03:48:00.000-07:00

Everyone appears to be going somewhere
So why do I feel like I'm going nowhere?
I'm trying but not getting anywhere
I wonder whether I should even be here
I think I know where you're coming from
I don't know whether I am coming or going
There's only one destination
I'm just not sure where...

© Ellen Johns

Write it...

2010-05-07T03:11:00.000-07:00

Soothe away the sadness with a sonnet
Divert the downward spiral with a ditty
Scribble away the stress
Postpone the panic with positive prose
Liase with love in poignant lyrics
Prevent invasive thoughts with imaginative inspiration
Nullify the numbness with erotic epitaphs
Raise your self esteem with an obituary of pride
Evade the constant haunting with a humour that prevails
A one to one relationship with ragged jotter pad
Expression of life with papyrus and pen
An isolated therapy with global outreach

© Ellen Johns

Prison

2010-05-07T02:54:00.000-07:00

I can't unlock the cell of your prison
I can only ease the passage of your confinement
I can't over-rule your sentence
I can only hope your sentence is reduced
I can't arrange a jailbreak and set you free
I can only visit you and listen
I can't embrace you and hold you tight
I can only hold your hands and transmit my love through them
I can't take away your guilt and pain
I can only share those feelings with you
I can't influence the decisions made on your behalf
I can only stand by you and support you through it all
I can't prevent your endless hours of isolation
I can only think about you endlessly
I can't protect you when you are out of sight
I can only pray for your safety and well being
I can't undo the damage that is being inflicted upon you
I can only love you with all my heart
I can't predict the time of your release
I can be here waiting for you.

© Ellen Johns

Catch

2010-05-07T02:48:00.000-07:00

You are fishing in my head

Trawling my thoughts with your nets

In the ebb and flow of my mind

Sifting through my memories

There is only pollution there

Discover depression lurking in darkened caves

Attract the anxiety, wave upon wave

Catch the confusion amidst the murky waters

Trap turmoil in the swirling undercurrents

To capsize would be to drown in a sea of distress

Draw in your nets and return to dry land

Severe weather warning!

© Ellen Johns

Poetic Prescription

2010-05-07T02:45:00.001-07:00

Alternative prescription required...

Infusion of love
Antidote to attracting anxiety
Sutures to repair the splitting seams of my fabric
Oil to make me feel essential
Grafts to remove all the scars of my life
Transfusion of peace to purify my soul
Dialysis draining the feelings of filth
Vaccination to ward off the violence
Anaesthetic allowing escape for one day
Cosmetic scalpel to change who I am
Mechanical hoist to raise my self-esteem
Vitamin boost for my confidence
A bypass of heart, no more hurt flowing through
Transplant from someone whose life was fulfilled
Injection of permanent positive thoughts
Immunity from the depression
Massage of ego to heighten my mood
Respite from this ''rat race'' called life.

© Ellen Johns

Little Soldier

2010-04-30T04:23:00.000-07:00

My little soldier, please take care
You're leaving now, it's so unfair
You look so very young tonight
Although a man in your own right

My little soldier close the door
Go join your comrades in this war
You've had the training, know the drills
Studies hard, acquired the skills

My little soldier, please be brave
No nameless hero on a grave
So watch your back, complete this chore
You're well equipped to fight this war

My little soldier don't be scared
They say you're ready, well prepared
The sight's you'll see, will cause you pain
But sunshine always follows rain

My little soldier, please survive
Return to me, unharmed, alive
It's freedom you are fighting for
This massacre of life, called war

My little soldier don't be sad
There's always good, despite the bad
You'll say goodbye to more than one
Such loss is rarely overcome

My little soldier, never cease
To think of everlasting peace
I'll light a candle every night
Keep thinking of its shining light

My little soldier persevere
You know I will be waiting here
When you're exhausted, weak and low
Just think of me and I will know

My little soldier don't despair
I know you're lost and lonely there
You loving me, me loving you
Is all you'll need to pull you through.

© Ellen Johns

Dancing with My Demons

2010-04-29T05:10:00.000-07:00

Flamenco with Fury
she's fiery red
the colour of rage
burning inside my head

Tango with Turmoil
in every direction
incessantly turning
a loss of perception

Foxtrot wth Phobia
spiralling round
dizzying heights
with my feet off the ground

Limbo with Lethargy
forced to my knees
aching and arched
a body displeased

Smooching with Sadness
his shoulder a tissue
soaking the tears up
avoiding the issue

Salsa with Stress
a step forward, five back
sweating profusely
nerves under attack

Waltzing with Worry
the moves unrehearsed
two left feet tripping
the routine reversed

Can-can with Confidence
shortage of skill
her skirts are flying
whilst mine remain still

Mambo with Mania
energy charged
euphoric encounter
his ego enlarged

Last dance with Depression
a head hanging down
no smile to reveal
just an effortless frown.

© Ellen Johns

Tenancy

2010-04-29T04:56:00.000-07:00

He is the landlord
tenants are we
this bountiful planet
EARTH
not knowing its expiry date
the lease begins at
BIRTH

Plentiful water
oceans galore
enough to quench all living
THIRST
livestock roaming valleys and hills
fields full of food fit to
BURST

No rent is required,
payment is none
to justify our lifelong
STAY
ten rules are set in a tablet of stone
to live by and thus to
OBEY

Generously given
contract for life
unconditional love in
RETURN
a place up above guaranteed
but agreement abusers will
BURN

Think and be silent
listen and pray
a two way relationship
DEAL
have faith in the landlord of love
or your tenancy's void and
UNREAL.

© Ellen Johns

Miner's Munch

2010-04-23T04:51:00.000-07:00

earth decomposed, landscape necrosed
fruit of this waste, sought out in haste
nasal negation, lung aggravation
blackened persona, musty aroma
absence of light, permanent night
crumbling rafters, foolhardy grafters
fuel is needed, warnings unheeded
black gold impaled, poisons inhaled
chests full of dust, earning their crust
pick axes pound, echoes resound
O2 depletion, acrid secretion
bent backs are breaking, all joints are aching
time for a break, hot flask and cake
two tired moles, surface from holes
hard hats with light, glow in the night
two tired miners, deep forest diner.

© Ellen Johns

Sweat and starch

2010-04-23T04:29:00.000-07:00

mirrors gleam, lifetime dream
pure perfection, in reflection
skin aglow, braid in bow
lip line gloss, pink as floss
gemmed tiara, fine mascara
tutu starched, backbone arched
slippers laced, feet embraced
worn and thin, second skin
inner flutter, vocal stutter
muscles poised, backstage noise
graceful fall, curtain call
darkened stage, opened page
prima donna, night of honour
in silhouette, one pirouette
spotlight sphere, shadows clear
body shimmer, backdrops glimmer
moves of grace, in timeless space
satin twirling, limbs uncurling
a crowd entranced, creative dance
a solo part, for soul and heart
final note, outstanding quote
a critics awe, no fault or flaw
eyes on fire, with raw desire
heaving chest, a fall to rest
conductor stalls, silence falls.
poignant pause, stunned applause
intense vibration, raised ovation
flung bouquets, floral sprays
curtsey of tears, envious peers
nation's pride, curtain slide
costume damp, aching cramp
itching starch, dry and parched
cameras blink, comrades wink
champagne pop, postures flop.

© Ellen Johns

Script Eclipse

2010-04-23T04:14:00.000-07:00

Recycled my thoughts
a memory or two
gazed at a Monet
a breath taking view

at mosaic sky
the intricate clouds
studied the faces
of strangers in crowds

stood in the shadow
of solar eclipse
read tragic novels
with heart-breaking scripts

dined on discovery
all nature unfurled
lush forests of rain
the natural world

tiny pink bundles
in mothers' safe arms
traced every life line
unique pair of palms

feasted on fragrance
of jasmine and musk
a sun dipped in sea
embraced by the dusk

danced with the dolphins
to whales soothing song
swayed with the seasons
as each came along

chartered the oceans
in dream ship I sailed
heard the wind sigh
at the secrets unveiled

strolled through old churchyards
all lives since lost
polished my treasures
in ancestral box

knelt at the altar
in whispering prayer
basked in the silence
abandoned my cares

I'm stood at the sink
piled high with dishes
knowing I'll never
fulfil all my wishes

see my two daughters
building a den
pull of my gloves
and reach for my pen.

© Ellen Johns

Sting

2010-04-23T03:51:00.000-07:00

diamante drop
toppling tear
cascades from the
well of your eye

a solitary slide
winding its way
over contours of
chiselled face

merging with oils
black curling lashes
cosmetic pollutants
streak flawless skin

splatters on impact
salty explosion
releasing a million
particles of pain

reservoir formed by
the dams of your lids
one lonely tear
says it all

© Ellen Johns

Mirrors of Majesty

2010-04-23T03:41:00.000-07:00

My world is reflected
in mirrors of majesty
viewed over rim of
a black opaque voile

No sound from my lips
all expression, one slit
in charcoal etched eyes
the mystique of disguise

Embraced by a shroud
of chaste secret silks
my skirts flow in silence
in delicate dance

The sad shrinking pupils
eclipsed by small shadows
in warm almond pools
spill out, granite grit tears

Euphoric eyes, each iris of ice
sparkle in beat with the stars
subtle secretion of radiant beauty
mesmerise all who succumb

Anger apparent, in
fixed smouldering gaze
tears stoked up in
a furnace of flames

Onlooker branded
by piercing stare
embers of emerald
fanned molten ash.

© Ellen Johns

How To Die! (dedicated to Sir Bob Geldof)

2010-04-20T17:28:00.001-07:00

(dedicated to Sir Bob Geldof)

Suspended in the hammock
of vein stained hands
his head gently rocked

As a million stomachs grumbled

His elbows the fulcrum
world famine the weight
on the verge of collapse

As a million stomachs grumbled

He hauled up his head
and he stared through his hair
and the western world silently waited

As a million stomachs grumbled

In quiet Irish brogue
his monotone mumblings
startled the hardest of hearts

As a million stomachs grumbled

A vision so vast
he reeled in compassion
and rivers of revenue flowed

As a million stomachs grumbled

His microphone soaked up
the sweat and the spittle
and lyrics of lunacy screamed

As a million stomachs grumbled

In death row defiance
and larynx on hold
two lines stopped the world

As a million stomachs grumbled

''The lesson today
is
how to die''

A MILLION TRUCKS OF GRAIN RUMBLED.

© Ellen Johns

Star

2010-04-20T17:20:00.000-07:00

Lying in shadow of blue
Cool sapphire tears shed for you
Lunar winds chill, numb the pains
Moon in her majesty reigns

A space in her beautiful night
Once filled with the brightest of light
In shimmering silence you gleamed
And shone over me whilst I dreamed

Slowly you started to fade
And flickered in fear, so afraid
Black clouds engulfed you with smog
Your glow disappeared in the fog

So near and yet so very far
I felt I could touch you, my star
With trembling hand I reached out
A breeze blew your last glimmer out

The moon and I let out a sigh
A sadness swept over our sky
No more would I stare up and see
A diamond as precious as thee

© Ellen Johns

Of all...

2010-04-20T17:18:00.000-07:00

Of all the delights of our soulful duet
Of all the hot nights when we swam in our sweat
Of all the embraces with bodies as one
Of all the fine laces so gently undone
Of all the loud cries that escaped from our lips
Of all the soft sighs, and our tongues and their tips
Of all the temptation, the teasing the pride
Of all the frustration of access denied
Of all the sweet words that we shared though the night
Of all the dawn birds serenading the light
Of all the devotion, we gave of our best
Of all the emotion so freely expressed
Of all the sensation, the softest of strokes
Of all the elation when barriers broke
Each one of these things I do honestly miss
But the best of them all was the feel of your kiss

© Ellen Johns

I Read Goodbye...

2010-04-20T17:15:00.001-07:00

An Indian Summer sun shone
The earthy autumn breeze blew
Windows of stained glass reflected
From your casket of polished cedar
Forming a lovely rainbow over you

The giant church of ancient stone
Cooled the hot descending tears
As you lay motionless and small
Beneath the late Summer blooms
Cascading colours of the season

Stifled by the silence, we breathed
In the air and sadness of grief
The disease of despair spread
Through each and every one of us
No pew left untouched by you

On every line, your chosen hymns
The words merged in a blur of tears
Faltering notes and lines unsung
Mournful melodies overwhelmed
A perfect pitch soprano resounded

Then my lovely friend, I read to you
My tears dried, my trembling ceased
I saw your smile and felt you near
My heartache flew to distant shores
I read my last goodbye to you

In memory of Jayne 1962-2003

A thousand bars of soap

2010-04-20T17:11:00.000-07:00

A thousand bars of soap
And still I live in hope
A thousand scorching showers
And still I fear your power

A thousand boiling bubble baths
And still I hear your wicked laughs
A thousand scented body sprays
And still your smell won’t go away

A thousand freshly laundered beds
And still you stain my heart and head
A thousand times I’ve scrubbed my skin
And still the dirt is trapped within

A thousand potent, numbing drugs
And still I feel your forceful hugs
A thousand times, I’ve stopped my fall
And still your touch makes my skin crawl

A thousand healers’ hands on me
And still their touch can’t set me free
A thousand prayers to cleanse my soul
And still I’m trapped in this black hole

A thousand men have stopped and stared
And still I feel unclean, impaired
A thousand dreams of wedded bliss
And still I stiffen when I kiss

A thousand friends are by my side
And still I think of suicide
A thousand smiles have come my way
And still I turn and walk away

A thousand days I’ve failed to feel
And still I hope one day I’ll heal
A thousand days of counting scars
And still you’re near, not very far

But now I’ve met somebody new
And know that he feels unclean too
We’re holding hands, beneath God’s rain
To wash away the years of pain.

© Ellen Johns

My Little Hound

2010-04-20T17:06:00.001-07:00

My Little Hound

Almond white eyes
Chocolate nut centre
Whiskers of nylon
Thick piercing threads
Boot polish nose
Texture of grease
Snout with pink blush
Splatter of rouge
Lips of laced liquorice
Soot speckled skin
Floppy drop ears
Off-cuts of suede
Spiral pink middles
Coarse wiry tail
White paintbrush tip
Spindle slim limbs
Pink spongy paw pads
Ivory claws
Miniature tusks

© Ellen Johns

Do we?

2010-04-20T17:02:00.000-07:00

Do We?

Do we shut out the same starless sky?
With closed eyes as we shamelessly cry.

Do the unsculptured shadows we see,
Bear resemblance to you or to me?

From this pain there is nowhere to hide,
As we dream with our eyes open wide.

Do we watch the same moon amble past?
Was our sleeping space always so vast?

Do we search every inch of our cold linen sheets?
In the hope that our limbs will eventually meet?

Do we bargain and barter with Him high above?
As we question the future of this distant love?

Do you summon my face in the still of the night?
And then whisper out loud that ''this just isn't right'',

With the change of the seasons from Winter to Fall,
Do the days on your calender slow to a crawl?

Do we synchronize sighs when we pick up the phone?
Knowing we're both such a long way from ''home''.

Do we count every one of the five thousand miles?
Would you give all you've got for just one of my smiles?

Do we stare as the couples pass by?
Look away, thus avoiding their eye.

So attracted by two hands entwined
Our own loneliness truly defined.

Do the everyday things lovers do,
Make you ache, like I'm aching for you?

Do we wonder if our love will thrive?
If the dreams that we have will survive?

All the rainbows we ever did see,
Are a promise to you and to me.

That our love will continue to grow,
Despite all the things we don't know.

So keep hold of my heart, hold it tight,
As I make it through one more long night.

For Richie............

Snapshot

2010-04-16T01:52:00.001-07:00

Snapshot of child, freckles and frown
glossiness lost in sepir brown

Corners curled up, with passage of time
grubby grey stains, sticky with grime

Two starchy plaits tied with a bow
little brown clips, keeps hair in tow

Innocent eyes, little blue moons
dreams of white lace, dancing balloons

Never outgrown, check dungarees
red splattered shirt, bramble-cut knees

Tatty old bear, held close to heart
born the same day, never apart

Endlessly darned, fragile fur seams
tucked in each night, sharing your dreams

Reindeers grazing, Santa's surprise
shimmering snow, star-speckled skies

Locked in a frame, six years of age
bookmark in time, one special page

Flickering night, shadows invade
downpour of tears, rapid with rage

Colours all mingle, slide off the frame
run little girl from imminent shame

Hold out your hand, cling to me now
let me protect you and save us somehow

Look in my eyes, cloud covered moons
nightmares of fear, shrinking balloons

Stay six forever, there where it's nice
safe in the land of the sugar and spice

Sweet little me, don't slip away
to share in the sadness of my life today

© Ellen Johns

Drac!

2010-04-10T03:25:00.001-07:00

Rectangular residence, velveteen drape
All passion focused on neckline and nape
Nocturnal predator, feasting at night
Dark apparition, inducing such fright

Pure white enamel, filed fine to a point
Two fangs of fear, revealed to anoint
Transparent complexion, anaemic and pale
Exposed in the shadows to damsels so frail

Theatrical powder, deathly white paint
Swooning young females, gracefully faint
With hypnotic gaze, and powerful stance
Offering your hand for a terminal dance

Neck nuzzling movements, locating feed
Puncturing holes for the optimum bleed
Tasty transfusion of curdling clots
Full to the brim you return to your box

Pouting red lips, exposing your action
Vampire vulgarity, slow satisfaction.

© Ellen Johns

Bittersweet Pill

2010-04-10T03:11:00.000-07:00

As I unscrewed the lid from my potion
I was suddenly gripped by the notion
That the contents enclosed in the jar
Have preserved me and brought me this far.

With each pill I ingest, I now know
That my brain cells are on the ‘’go-slow’’
My six senses are dull and impaired
For the first time I feel somewhat scared

Implications, italic and bold
Alert me to warnings of old
The effects of these mind-numbing drugs
Pose more danger than psychotic thugs

Yet I swallow them four times a day
As routinely as nuns kneel to pray
On a good day, I’m calm and composed
When I fell rough, I double the dose

When my worries begin, they’re diffused
I forget what they are, I’m confused
With emotions like watered down beer
It lessens the force of my fear

On occasions I speak and reveal
That the numbness has gone, and can feel
However those feelings deflate
I revert to my zombie-like state

Are the pills just postponing the pain?
Should I flush the whole lot down the drain?
Throw my chemical crutches away?
Give my body a rest for a day?

Would I cope with the imminent cravings?
Could others put up with my raving?
Do I have what it takes to withdraw?
I’ll decide when I’ve taken one more.

© Ellen Johns

Little Leaf

2010-04-10T03:01:00.000-07:00

Last little leaf on the tree
We are just so alike you and me
Helplessly flapping around
Avoiding that fall to the ground

Braving the winds and the rain
Alone in the cold and in pain
Surviving the force of each gale
Exteriors withered and frail

Clinging to life by a thread
The weak that surround us have fled
Plucked one by one see them fall
But we still remain standing tall

How have we clung on for so long?
It must be because we’re so strong
To be trampled on, swept up, decayed
We can’t tempt that fate, must be brave

So cling on to life little leaf
When you fall, I’ll be waiting beneath
Survivors eventually die
At least we both know that we tried

© Ellen Johns 2000

Walking

2010-04-10T02:46:00.001-07:00

Walking, just walking...
in a flurry of flakes
my frozen thoughts
as intricate,
swirling
I am baptised in snow

Shivering, deep within
a skin that never
held me in
a white expanse
glares
I am screaming back at silence

Warmed by your words
wrapped tight around me,
shielded from a numbing cold
insulated by a
dream
I am melting slowly

Gathering my memories
in an unseasoned harvest
crushing boulders ‘till
they powder to
sand
I am following my own footprints.

© Ellen Johns

Silence and I

2010-04-08T09:19:00.000-07:00

Silence and I

As darkness and light
Have their eventide dual

Silence frames the room
Spanning wall to wall

I reminisce, nostalgia
Stroking my brow

The moment stolen, as time
Nudges me, rocks my ribs

Reflection lets past doze
As shadows stretch

Present is perched on the sill
Swinging her legs

Whilst future taps her fingers
To the beat of impatience

Disease serves a portion of pain
I wince at the size

Tolerance trips as he enters the room
Caught by compassion’s warm grip

Beauty taps at dirt lacquered glass
Curiosity parting the drapes

Dust huffs at such intrusion
Disperses under duress

Fire in dominance crackles and spits
Banishing cold from her place

Strength slips to the floor
A weak breeze bathes my face

Eventually death gathers up what is his,
My shaking soul, and my last earthly breath.

© Ellen Johns

Sweet Dreams

2010-04-08T09:04:00.000-07:00

I’ve got to say goodbye to you
We haven’t even met.
I’ve never looked into your eyes
But I will not forget.

Your tiny life force deep within
Struggling to progress
I’ve prayed for your survival
But can’t cope with your distress.

Your tiny heart is weak and flawed
It’s not been made to last
You haven’t got a future
And you’ll never have a past.

So I’ve got to let you go soon
It’s the hardest thing I’ll do
Your fragile heart’s not working
And my big heart’s torn in two.

The bond we’ve shared together
In the shortest space of time
Will stay with me forever
That’s a fact I can’t deny.

I love you little infant
More than anyone alive
I’ll be so lost and lonely
On the day you don’t arrive.

I’ll wonder what you looked like
And the colour of your hair
I’ll miss those little flutterings
Reminding me you’re there.

I know that you are beautiful
I feel it deep inside
And every time I think of you
My heart will swell with pride

You’ve fought so hard against the odds
Now rest it’s only fair
Close your tired eyes
And know that Mummy will be there

© Ellen Johns

''Volunteer Dolly'' (a poem dedicated to the WRVS)

2010-02-13T16:17:00.000-08:00

Whilst trawling through some of my poetry files, I found this humourous little poem I wrote whilst I was sat in a hospital waiting room a few years back, passing the time.

It's dedicated to the volunteers who give freely of their time to serve the public with refreshments in our busy hospitals.

In these clothes I am...

Volunteer Dolly
with the squeaky-wheeled trolley
down the corridors I hurtle
with my neighbour, name of Myrtle.

With our floral pinnies pristine
from the laundry...pressed by Christine
we pour out the treacle coffee
and restock the choice of toffee.

Our services we render
with compassion, oh so tender
to the patients who are needy
and their visitors, so greedy!

In the W.V.S (Womens Voluntary Service)
we put up with so much stress
smile a thousand times a day
hum and whistle hours away

As we boldly sell our wares
we ignore intrusive stares
keep decorum in the queue
give directions to the loo

Thirty years have been and gone
since we joined this merry throng
so much time to smile and serve
what a varied learning curve

Myrtle says we should retire
when our creaky bones expire
take a cruise around the Med
put our feet up, stay in bed

What? my life with out a trolley?
I AM VOLUNTEER DOLLY...

Ellen Johns 2005

Village

2009-11-14T01:19:00.000-08:00

Inspired by a holiday to Cyprus.

A village
white cubes
carved into a brittle hill
waking...

Orange sun
ambles slowly
up the hillside
glowing...

Morning haze
a lace cloth shaken
and spread upon it
fading...

Shuttered windows
of duck-egg blue
inch open lazily on a day
breaking...

Local ladies
embalmed in black
engrossed in dusty rugs
beating...

Elderly men
tucked in small tavernas
drink syrup coffee
debating...

Aphrodite
goddess of love
stretches her beautiful limbs
sighing...

© Ellen Johns

Santa's Sigh (A poem for Christmas)

2009-11-13T13:23:00.000-08:00

Santa’s Sigh

Our santa claus is feeling weary
His bloodshot eyes are tired and bleary
A pinched red nose from Christmas frost
His faculties are almost lost.

His hair is streaked with chimney soot
A painful blister on each foot.
His suit is creased and caked in grime
This happens every Christmas time.

He’s squeezed himself through tiny spaces
Caught his beard up in his braces
He’s knocked his knee and bumped his head
And fallen over tiny beds.

He’s lost his list, mislaid his map
Mixed up presents in his sack
Forgot to M.O.T. his sleigh
And lost a reindeer on the way.

He’s double parked on yellow lines
Now has a stack of parking fines
He’s knocked down gates and startled pets
Accumulated several debts.

He’s flown into electric wires
And whipped the tops off churches spires
He’s worried sheep and churned up lawns
Crash landed in a field of corns

Despite all this he’s flown them miles
Made many million little smiles
So now our santa needs a rest
He’s done his job and done his best.

In the quiet of Christmas dawn
He leads his deer from cold to warm
A cosy barn with thick, sweet hay
He beds them down without delay

Then lights the fire and bolts the doors
And settles down with Mrs. Claus
He pours a sherry, warms his toes
His shoulders droop, his eyelids close.

The morning choir of garden birds
Sing sweetly but they can’t be heard
Mrs. Claus looks on, so proud
As Santa snores extremely loud.

© Ellen Johns

Poppy...a poem of remembrance...

2009-11-11T13:39:00.001-08:00

Poppy

A single red poppy, the symbol of grief,
a circle of poppies, commemorative wreath.
A colour so eye catching, deepest of red,
a shade representing the blood that was shed.

A natural narcotic encased in its' bloom,
reminds us of pain, and impending doom.
With wafer thin petals and delicate stem,
fragility reigned in the lives of those men.

Falling in thousands first one then another,
fathers with sons and their nephews and brothers.
The poppy seeds scatter, they drop in the breeze
fall to the ground like those men on their knees.

A new generation of life had begun,
because those brave men fought our battle and won.
Those sacrificed souls, the spoils of war,
ensured our release so that peace reigned once more.

At attention in death, row on row of white stones
annonymous soldiers, no names and no homes.
So when the parade passes by, rifles shoot
and fragile old soldiers raise hands in salute.

For the ignorant people who walk past and stare,
remember we're here, because those men were there.

© Ellen Johns

Broken Vows

2009-08-19T13:09:00.000-07:00

Inspired by a friend's divorce.

Broken Vows

Relationship has ended,
no hurt or harm intended.
Don't want to be superior,
or make you feel inferior.

No goods to splice in two,
or children's heads to screw.
No little dog to pine and howl,
it's time we both threw in the towel.

Our property's on hire,
just let the lease expire.
No neighbours to embrace,
or stick-on smiles to face.

No car for bid or barter,
let's terminate our charter.
No family to involve,
or finances to solve.

Let's just be realistic,
a one in three statistic.
There's not a lot to save,
our vows won't reach the grave.

Two circular bands of gold,
for us to have and hold.
And place in cluttered drawer,
significant no more.

A camera not repaired,
no photographs to share.
One suitcase each required,
to pack away our lives.

A signature or two,
is all that's left to do.
A farewell hug and kiss,
so much for wedded bliss!

© Ellen Johns 2003

Knit One, Purl One

2009-08-18T13:39:00.000-07:00

Written about my knitted hats.

Knit One, Purl One

Knit one, purl one
frozen little hands
icy far off lands.

Knit one, purl one
minus ten degrees
needy refugees.

Knit one, purl one
snowy storm of death
misty fatal breath.

Knit one, purl one
widow's silent sigh
orphaned baby's cry.

Knit one, purl one
lullabys are drowned
bullets shower ground.

Knit one, purl one
Christmas has expired
Santa is retired.

Knit one, purl one
woolley hats and glove
pattern for our love.

Knit one, purl one
crafted with compassion
peace is not in fashion.

© Ellen Johns

Marble

2009-08-18T13:38:00.000-07:00

Written following a news report on mass graves.

Marble

blast all the quarries
slice up the rocks
hack off the debris
square off the blocks

sand down the marble
mould deathly shapes
smooth off the edges
fashion the drapes

wings of bent angels
encompass each grave
traditional crosses
depicting the brave

enlist the engravers
to chisel the stone
appropriate words for
those not coming home

tons of soil shifted
the landscape is raped
plots marked and counted
for boxes flag draped.

© Ellen Johns

Peace

2009-08-18T13:37:00.001-07:00

Written after watching a documentary about war.

Peace

Peace is precarious,
as stable as those who uphold it.

Peace is periodic
as lasting as those who maintain it

Peace is political
the powers that be, they control it

Peace is precious
us pacifists strive to promote it

Peace is preserving
allowing a nation to prosper

Peace is preventative
disabling dictatorships

Peace is purposeful
the peoples' passport to freedom

A single bullet
ricochets from
a slogan splattered wall.
THE PEACE IS SHATTERED

© Ellen Johns

Manmade Morgue

2009-08-18T13:35:00.000-07:00

In response to 9/11

Manmade Morgue

Architectural majesty
Flailing, forced to bended knee
Satan’s skyline dark with dust
Concrete carcass rots in rust
Rocks cascading, crater pops
Jigsaw tossed, misshapen blocks
Girders twisted, spiral canes
Soft as solder, shrapnel rains.
Tips of fingers, skinned and raw
Bare hands dig like canine paw
Peeling nails and throb of veins
Slicks of sweat and postponed pains
Bent backs break in frantic pace
Crumbled bones as discs displace
Graves of gravel, souls exhumed
Bodies bent in makeshift tombs
Ladders snap with fragile rungs
Debris pebble-dashes lungs
Rescue hats like bobbing ducks
Voices mouthing “what the “****”
Shoulders drop, frustrated wails
Knuckled fists as mission fails
Muscles torn and hearts in shreds
Furrowed brows and shaking heads
Morgue of many, view from hell
Inward screams and choking yell.

© Ellen Johns

First Day

2009-08-18T13:29:00.001-07:00

Written as a poetry challenge.

First Day

Someone once asked me,
if I had a choice,
which one day in history
would make me rejoice?

I answered them honestly,
said "the first day",
before the pollution
and world's disarray.

When the master Creator,
His canvas unfurled,
selected a palette
and painted our world.

When He shared ice blue waters
in oceans of seven,
their colours reflected
in glimpses of heaven.

When the dawn made its debut,
erased the new moon,
the premier sunrise
rose proudly to noon.

When He smudged out the light
with a granite black thumb,
and darkness descended,
the day overcome.

When he tossed maiden stars
to an infinite sky,
each clutching a twinkle,
that first lullaby.

When the first cloud cracked open
the rainfall demure,
and Eden's new spring
blossomed perfect and pure.

How I wish I had been there
and wish I had heard,
the initial recital of
God's first songbird.

With no hesitation
and no need to pause,
I'd stand in His glory
in rapturous applause.

That first ever day
overwhelmed by creation,
would find me on tiptoes
in standing ovation.

© Ellen Johns 2005

Emaciated

2009-08-18T13:26:00.001-07:00

Written after watching a programme on anorexia.

Emaciated

I retch
as you regurgitate
every last lie.
Blatant and bile stained,
eroding the floor.

The flames of Hell
have risen so high
they lick the flesh
from your naked feet,
skinning them.

Two decades of
skin hangs,
like a shroud of faded leather
from an ancient hide,
Dangling from clavicular hanger.

Flesh crawls up the brittle rungs
of your vertebral ladder,
rippling.

It fuses with a neck
like the scrag end of a carcuss,
garrotted by guilt.

Protruding pot belly
confuses your posture,
a knot in the frailest of threads.

Deceit has devoured you,
gorged on your flesh,
splayed open your sternum,
a cage with no bars.

Your heart is the garnish
to succulent soul,
your spirit is crushed
like cracked salt.

Death has ingested you whole......

is digesting you slowly.

© Ellen Johns 2004

Heat In Retreat

2009-08-18T13:23:00.000-07:00

Written about the beautiful sunsets in Ibiza.

Heat In Retreat

The sun gently shrugs off
the remnants of the scorching day,
from crescent crested shoulders.

She immerses herself lazily
into the refreshing relief
of a jacuzzi sea.

Her rays of radiance form
a fan of flames around her.
Sea birds bask in the
tepid swirls of smoke.

Rigs like sentinels stand
rigidly at attention,
on the front line horizon.

The dusk designs
a different sky,
dipped in a palette of
eventide pinks.

Fish form a layer
of mercury spillage,
reflecting a spectrum
of stunning silvers.

Stars flicker faintly as
she slides off the edge
of the world,
in welcome retreat
for cool moons
to commence their
nightly cabaret.

© Ellen Johns 2004

A Tendon Torn

2009-08-18T13:22:00.002-07:00

Am really not sure what inspired this!!!

A Tendon Torn

Your cummerbund creaked,
the scarlet satin creased,
as you staggered towards me.

Banal, bloodshot eyes
scoured over my most intimate parts.
Expressing your lecherous intentions.

Putrid breath permeated my nasal canal,
a cocktail of stagnant tobacco and decaying teeth.
The odour clung to the hairs there.

Red threaded veins, stained your weathered skin.
The saggy jowls hung loosely…quivering.
Flakes of dead skin, dangled from dehydrated lips.

Abrasive bristles sanded my chin,
as your invasive tongue wrestled with mine.
A bolus of bile flooded my throat.

Podgy fingers, poked at me roughly.
Your touch tattooed my exposed parts
I froze in a catatonic state of frigidity.

I was momentarily disabled,
but then I placed my trembling hand
upon your dribbling genitals…instinctively.

I fingered the network of tubes,
in the wrinkled scrotal sack,
locating the objects of my intentions.

Like two conkers in a twisted hanky
your testicles swelled in my grinding grip,
Until a tendon tore in my forearm.

© Ellen Johns 2004

Renegade Refugee

2009-08-18T13:22:00.001-07:00

Written after seeing a news report.

Renegade Refugee

Were you sifting the soil
searching for your conscience,
in that dank hole...
or tunnelling your way to hell?

In hiding,
an undiscovered well,
the nectar of your nation,
in oil blessed lands?

Beneath a top layer
of splintered bones
and shrapnels of armoury,
glazed with a peoples’ blood.

Have you had your fill,
of feasting on a nation’s fear?
Is the gluttony of genocide
laying heavy in your gut?

When the sun
assaults your eyes,
singeing your retinas,
you must readjust your vision.

Focus on the
anarchy.
The vile vision,
the aftermath.

Defiant eyes and
supercilious smirk.
Have they dissolved
with the demise of a tyrant?

Sockets as shallow and black
as the graves delegated.
Replaced with a vagrant,
bowed in the stance of
subservient surrender.

Your skull shrugs off
a weathered skin.
It hangs loosely
in lethargy.

A thousand more lines
in your crumpled brow.
As abundant as fronts fought in
and barriers built.

A beard untamed
and matted with
the grey ashes
of a war torn place.

Lonely, aged citizen,
join the exodus,
of tormented souls
who file out
of their land.

Lead them all...
renegade refugee.

© Ellen Johns 2004

In-utero

2009-08-18T13:21:00.001-07:00

Written after watching a documentary on tv about conception and pregnancy.

In Utero

Latched,
attached.
Suspended from a twisted twine of succulence
in the confines of a vascular vault,
scattered with cellulite cushions.
A pendulum subtly swaying
to the pelvic swing.

Jot,
knot.
Immersed in an aqueous ambience,
a jacuzzi of infinite bubbles
silently drifting in natural currents,
lulled by the sound
of a uterine sea.

Prophetic,
genetic.
Future's construction,
a myriad of miracles
shaping and moulding
patented persona
and features unique.

Secure,
demure.
Mother of Nature
is rapidly weaving
the cling in
the strings
of maternity.

© Ellen Johns 2004

A shoebox

2009-08-18T13:18:00.001-07:00

Shoebox

My festive jacket flutters in a humid wind,
crackles with the onslaught of whipped up sand.

Smiling brown reindeer sweat beneath a giant sun,
casting amber shadows towards the horizon.

Sturdy jeep wheels plough through a gritty terrain,
jostling my cargo of crammed Christmas love.

The convoy descends the river-bed road,
it splinters and creaks like old, dry bone.

Fumes of jasmine rise in spirals from a
ribbon-bound soap buried deep within.

Blends with the odour of anticipation
caught in the sultry currents of nowhere.

Whispers erupt in a post-war silence,
where birds fly a circuit of endless circles.

The low hum of an ancient
African carol greets us.

© Ellen Johns 2005

Decay

2009-08-18T13:16:00.001-07:00

Decay...inspired by a trip to the dentist.

Decay

There is a drought of saliva,

in my desert baked throat.

A masked man looms

in pristine starched coat.

Collars and cuffs snapped off.

A tray of torturous tools

balance on my chest.

Expand in size with each

frantic exhalation

of arid breath.

Vocal chords shrivel

and wither.

Putrid aromas

penetrate my nostrils.

They twitch with recognition.

No shade for my eyes.

They burn beneath

the blinding bulbs.

A wave of neuralgia

crashes over me.

My jaw is stretched to the hilt.

Prised open like a stubborn clam.

The hinges ache

with awkwardness.

A pool of spittle stifles a scream.

A writhing needle

burrows into my gum.

The corkscrew drill

assaults my oral space.

Decay is disposed of.

The nerve exposed,

twitching, alive.

Shards of amalgam

rebound from the,

roof of my mouth.

An ice cold Jacuzzi

froths on my tongue,

like a sour sorbet.

I swallow grit

and dribble debris.

All Works © Ellen Johns 2004

Tut Tut

2009-07-21T15:55:00.001-07:00

Written just for fun..

Tut Tut

Tut tut, shake of head as she stands in the queue,
whilst a man on his crutches is struggling through.

Tut tut, as the nervous new girl on the till,
drops a bottle of ketchup and mops up the spill.

Tut tut as she's charged tuppence more for the steak,
and the new shopping bags are a different shape.

Tut tut as a baby screams out on the bus,
incompetent mother, unecessary fuss.

Tut tut at the children who litter the street,
naughty and restless and under her feet.

Tut tut at the neighbours' new bar-b-que grill,
soiling her washing whilst they have their fill.

Tut tut at the widow who lives two doors down,
staring from windows with permanent frown.

Tut tut at the man who lives all on his own,
his net curtains shabby, a fusty old brown.

Tut tut as she turns her new key in the door,
at charity letters all over the floor.

Tut tut as she takes off her bulging black mac,
the goods she has stolen could fill Santa's sack.

Tut tut!!!

© Ellen Johns

Beneath Us...

2009-07-21T15:52:00.000-07:00

Written after walking in the snow in America...

Beneath Us

Eden was sleeping in silence
'Neath a coverlet of soft, pristine snow
Her colours so quickly forgotten
In a landscape where little could grow

A scattering of snowdrops were nestled
In the warmth of their brown bracken beds
The ferns forming canopies over
Their delicate, white curled-up heads

Quite close by in the depths of a dark wood
A battalion of bluebells lay low
Awaiting their seasonal signal
To slowly march upward and grow

I unveiled a collection of croci
Huddled up in a hollowed-out tree
Like a gift that remains in its wrapping
Not quite ready for our eyes to see

A dance troop of daffodils shimmied
In the sweep of an easterly gale
Their petals lit up like the sunshine
Dispelling a winter so pale

I uncovered a grey squirrel's larder
Filled with nut-shells and berries galore
Painstakingly stocked but forgotten
This plentiful, nourishing store

In the nooks and the crannies of hawthorn
In their prickly beds sharp as nails
Little creatures slept, dreaming of springtime
With their noses tucked under their tails

Our land's like a cake during winter
Iced with the smoothness of snow
The richness of fruits and the goodness
Beneath us, not too far below.

© Ellen Johns

Holly...

2009-07-21T15:50:00.001-07:00

Written for those who loved Holly the dog.

Holly

There's an ache deep inside us
Now you're not around
Our beautiful Holly
Our loveable hound.

Every moment we spent with you
Lifted our hearts
And the pain of not having you
Tears us apart.

Life's not the same
Since you left for '' that place''
And the love that you gave us
Is hard to replace.

You were funny and cute
With your own little ways
And the games that we played
Always brightened our days.

Our house was a home
When you walked in the room
Now the sunlight has faded
We are left in the gloom.

You stayed that bit longer
To love us some more
For that gift, we thank you
Your heart we adore.

We will walk in those places
That you made your own
Remember our time
With a smile not a frown.

You were beautiful, brave
A real blessing from God
Our huggable Holly
Our wonderful dog.

© Ellen Johns 2009

Fragrance of Eden...

2009-07-21T15:43:00.000-07:00

Written after attending a healing service.

Fragrance Of Eden

I sat so still as if sculptured

from the oaken pew. The seconds

and minutes stuttered their way

through one extraordinary

hour of my existence.

I could not extinguish the flames

or the fragrance of Eden. Nor the sizzling

palm print branded upon my back.

I felt the silkiness of an oil so rare

smoothed into the creases

of my frown, massaged into

the pores of my upturned palms.

I swayed in the ambience of a virginal

sensation as whispers tickled

the whorls of my ears. Clandestine

chants in a tongue unbelonging.

I tasted the tang of my tears

as they fell unawares. One appointment

with Him, a sensory celebration.

An anointment by Him, and I scattered

my worries hand in hand with the clouds.

Confrontation...

2009-07-21T15:42:00.001-07:00

Written after an argument with a nameless male!

Confrontation

A nose to nose duel,

equal height, not dimension,

we suck in space.

Breaths collide,

in this climate

of confrontation.

Cocooned in obstinacy,

unshed tears orbit

our unblinking eyes.

Lexis missiles explode,

splicing the atmosphere,

turning it blue.

Composure crumbles

in razed reflections

at each twist of the verbal vice.

Tears scorch en route,

branding the features

of a face with no feeling.

With a sigh of your eyelids,

you turn and dismiss me,

slow march away.....

Emptying your pockets

of all our yesterdays,

each crushed by my following feet.

You disappear from view,

in a fog

of powdered memories

© Ellen Johns

Stare!

2009-07-21T15:40:00.001-07:00

Inspired by Sid Vicious.

Stare!

stare at me.

I am hazardous hair

shockingly styled,

artistic anarchy,

fashion defiled.

A putrid purple

erectile protrusion,

a cerebral carpet

on skull of stubble.

Wince!

wince at me.

I am follicles fused,

graffiti-can lacquer,

needle pine spikes

pierce decade of doom.

Lancing of lobes,

rusting blunt pins,

abuse of skin viewed

in gallery of pain.

Jeer!

jeer at me.

I am Kohl application

in layers of sludge,

liquorice laces

on insipid lids.

Wire thin legs hang,

dangle from pelvis,

bandaged in leather

and tourniquet tight.

Believe!

believe in me.

I am royalty ransacked,

futile flag,

shredded rags

draped over pallid persona.

Chaotic gig,

spewing slurs,

bouncing in pools

of spittle and vomit.

Listen!

listen to me.

I am link over link,

jangling chains

curving the spine,

elderly stance.

Deafening decibels

lyrics disputed,

voice of disturbance

appalled but absorbed.

I am your son!

© Ellen Johns

Bonnie Blue...

2009-07-21T15:35:00.000-07:00

Written whilst on holiday in Scotland.

Bonnie Blue

Celtic coverlets

drape war weary hills,

thistle darned

broad heather hems.

Warriors trudge in

a whiskey-laced mist,

tartan frayed

smudged in sky.

Lone piper mourns

rigid kilt, solo stance

pipes loosely slung

brittle shoulders subside.

Blue are the bells

as they toll

to the tune

full of woe in the woods

© Ellen Johns

Tommy Thumb...

2009-07-21T15:33:00.000-07:00

For my daughter Nicola, who put her thumby in when she was just two hours old.

Tommy Thumb

How I once treasured my warm little friend

A comfort through days that I thought had no end

Alone in the dark I would lay on my hand

And pop thumby in on my way to dreamland.

My nine other digits were slender and tall

But poor little thumby was ever so small

I loved the sensation of wrinkly skin

Attached like a limpet I sucked that skin in

Some nights I would snuffle and silently snivel

I sucked and I sucked and my thumby would shrivel

I worried sometimes I might suck him away

And sighed with relief at the start of each day

To find him still there and wiggling about

I hated the feeling of pulling him out

But as I got older the other kids mocked

Mothers stared openly looking quite shocked

So Mum bought a potion and painted it on

The taste was repulsive but still I sucked on

I couldn't accept it, that this was the end

Of thumby and me, my warm little friend

I said my goodbye, with a sad little heart

And had one more suck of my small body part

Sometimes when I'm sad and I'm down on my luck

For old times' sake I just have a quick suck!!

© Ellen Johns

The Place...a poem about the psychiatric institutions of a bygone era.

2009-06-25T16:14:00.001-07:00

The Place.

Identity robbed as you crawl through the door,
chin hung so low it drags dust from the floor.

From external chaos to institute hell,
a place to reside when one's feeling unwell.

Desolate dayroom, a wheeze and a choke,
light blotted out by a thick yellow smoke.

Tar dripping filters, butts dipped in ash,
bins overflow, an assortment of trash.

Laundry room hanging, a hundred grey frocks,
basket containing a thousand odd socks.

Clothes spinning round in dizzying drum,
nerve endings soothed by hypnotic hum.

Dishwater shampoo, shower room bare,
plughole clogged up with a knot of old hair.

Blocks of grey soap, no lather or smell,
noose-like red cord of emergency bell.

Watermark visible, greasy grey stain,
hours of scrubbing, to wash off the pain.

Cleaners work swiftly, no hurry to please,
afraid of their contact with mental disease.

Four times a day, assembles a queue,
two blues for him, a white one for you.

Harpoon sedation, staff unperturbed,
pumped into those who are really disturbed.

People so high that they wrestle with clouds,
others so low they darn their own shrouds.

Some pace relentlessly, shoe soles are bare,
others call out in a wail of despair.

Creative therapy, morning and night,
art is encouraged, to let in the light.

Portraits of self, face twisted in scream,
palette of darkness reveals the extreme.

For those who are lucky, it's quick and is brief,
a respite for mind bringing utter relief.

For others, much longer, a voyage of strife,
entombed in the system, are troubled for life.

Time has no relevance, clocks have expired,
minds in a mangle, bodies retired.

Amidst all the chaos and thoughts full of sin,
the process of healing can slowly begin.

All Works © Ellen Johns 2004

Sudan Sun...written after watching a news report from Sudan.

2009-06-25T16:10:00.001-07:00

Sudan Sun

A sweltering sun

blisters wasteland,

fertile plains calcify,

crack with strain.

Empty husks litter

path of the sower

in haunting of

yesteryear's harvest.

Emaciation sharpens

lens of the West,

sketches starvation's

portfolio of pain.

Babies suck life

from wasted women,

aching jaws

on hollowed breasts.

Magnified flies

like mortuary birds

digest despair,

infest each frame.

Pestilence loiters in

sweating shrouds,

wades through

sludge-filled holes.

A nation excreted,

smeared in a conflict,

bureaucracy's bowels

empty hindrance of life.

Political post mortems

read and reviewed,

deep pockets rattle

rusting coins.....

as I join you,

Sir Bob,

head pressed

in my hands

All Works © Ellen Johns