Stuck for inspiration, I went to MoreWriting, to the Poetry group to see what prompts had been posted. Instead, I found this one, written by yours truly on a day when I had obviously slept badly. It was penned in 15 minutes for the flash, but I have spent much longer on it today, polishing it some more.

The murky backwaters

Dark thoughts meander through
The backwaters of my brain
As murderous plans are hatched
In blind alleys of disdain

Sharp splinters log-jam me
Pins prick at my tender skin
Another wound gapes wide
And I disappear within

I wait for the rainfall 
That will flush away this pain
Polish my murky soul
So I can start over again

On Thursday night, I sat in a circle. Those of you who understand will know what I mean; those that don't needn't worry about whatever contortions it involves. We had a successful evening and I came away with renewed energy.

The soul key

When I close my eyes and count to ten
I see a silver horseshoe that flies
A marriage on the move is promised
But for a love match, that’s no surprise

When you close your eyes, and concentrate
You see a leather bound book for me
A portent of what the future holds
The door to which, I have the soul key

I lunched today with a friend from the local writers' group. We met in the café that is part of an Arts Centre and discussed punctuation mainly, but also drifted onto other topics, as women often do.

Torn Two Ways

When your heart goes one way
And your head's spoiling for a fight
Time alone will tell
Which, if either, was right

I walked this morning, for about two hours, through the town and out the other side, up and around Snapes and then back through the town, home. My boots are very muddy!

The view was blighted by bad light, and it threatened rain, but I reached home, dry and warm, flushed with the exercise. I record whenever I train or attend a dance class or go for a walk - and put a large asterisk beside the entry in my diary. The target is three stars a week.

Bad light

It's low tide and the beach is clear
It's that festive time of the year
When a bad light can blight the view
And bring a distant gloom too near

While the streetlight wears a halo
And the cobbles glisten and glow
Shops are bristling with Christmas cheer
But the shoppers are saying no

It’s sad: we’re all feeling the pinch
The effects of the credit crunch
Can’t afford to waste a penny
Having paid for our yuletide lunch

As the year draws to a close, I'm experiencing the last of everything: the final piano lesson this morning, the final line dancing class this afternoon. Tomorow, I will enjoy the final Thursday morning walk.

A new diary sits on my desk and maps when we restart our activities.

This poem could be interpreted as the quiet before the storm: the hiatus while the world celebrates Christmas in which I have the opportunity to decide how I might spend my time in 2009, time that can only be spent the once.

Too far to cry

Once the first step is taken
Your direction understood
The path ahead’s determined
Through the darkest, wildest wood

Even if you realize
Signposts are twisted awry
And pause to scream Stop! Or go?
You’ll have gone too far to cry

For you, there’s no breadcrumb trail
And no reason for delay
There will be no turning back
No switch labelled ‘life replay’

So, think before you walk on
Which route will you choose to take?
There’s time: listen to the breeze
And the right decision make

On my own for a few days. I should find plenty of time to write ...

Pipe dreams

Pipe dreams
Drawn by the fire
Glowing embers
Suffocating ire

Apologies. Already I have slipped into sex-and-suicide mode, except today it's more about dying than having fun in the sack.

What’s your poison?

What’s your poison?
Where’s it gonna end?
Cancerous gut?
Or a stroke, my friend?

What’s their poison?
A bottle of pills?
Cotton wool dreams
Snuffing all our ills?

Try my poison?
Pour another glass
Drink it down slow
Let this sad life pass

Time is a continuous function; I forget now all the other terms that describe such phenomena, like monotonically increasing.

Age, you would think, runs parallel; but no. 

Turn back time

On my birthday, I'm one year older
With each passing day, I shrink
My only wish: to grow wiser
And remain as young as I think

The child in my heart is still smiling
She’s skipping and laughs out loud
Her only wish: not to turn grey
And to make my mother feel proud

PS It's not my birthday today, but it's someone else's; and it'll be mine soon enough.

Choosing a Christmas gift for me is a nightmare. I don't want for material things. I want peace and harmony around me, and to be loved.

All, I desire

Bury your past, please, my love
Put outdated dreams to bed
Our life would become complete
If you focused on us instead

While we spend time in battle
Worrying about the past
We lose sight of our future
And that’s slipping away so fast

All, I desire for Christmas
If you really want to know
We've the chance to move forward
You forget them; and we pass go

It's been a long time and I've not written much in the meantime, but poems are beginning to work their way through my block and I guess today was the day I had to start sharing them.

Give and Take

I'm missing that button
The one labelled 'Take'
It's not the way I live

If you really want me
To share in your life
You'll need to learn to give

I've been away the past week. We stayed with a number of different friends: some his, some mine, all now ours. On the journey back home, through torrential rain at times, we reflected on the valuable lesson we'd learnt - several times over: no matter how bad things have been, or how bad they get, there is someone else experiencing life in a more excruciating way. It's not fair. That's just the way it is.

There's no poem today, for two reasons. I decided last night that, whatever time I have left, I need to spend it on other pursuits. Writing poetry served me well while I was on my own and needing an outlet for my feelings, but things have changed. Also, I am now living in a goldfish bowl of sorts, and need privacy!

So, thank you to all of you who have read my blog from Day 1, and to those that joined me along the way.

All's well that ends?

On Wednesday, in the line dancing class we were taught a new routine: one step forward, two steps back ...

Then, yesterday, I attended a garden party. The girls (of all ages!) who attend the keep fit class on a Thursday morning gorged themselves of scones and jam and cream, undoing a lot of the hard work from the previous term of exercises.

This morning, I took one step onto the scales and then took two swift steps back. How appropriate ...

The binge eater's dream

The dieter's dilemma
Faced with a party invite
Whether to join the fun
Or resist, mouth shut tight

There were scones piled high with jam
Topped with Devon clotted cream
The tooth fairy's delight
And this binge eater's dream

Next day, naked, on the scales
Ten ounces eaten in haste
Translate into ten pounds
And an inch on the waist   

Last week, I had news that one of my stories won 1st prize in the South Hams Writers' Group Annual competition. Up against 22 other stories, I was delighted with the result. Apparently, the judge liked my brevity ...

Short and sweet

I try to write stories 
Ones that will entertain
Romance, if tinged with sex
Works again and again

My goal? If I'm honest:
Make readers stop and think
Question their loyalties 
And take them to the brink

Also to bring a smile
With my audacity
But have never yet been
Accused of brevity

Having tasted success
I've a new goal to meet
I've refined my challenge:
To writing, short and sweet

Life is a two way street? One would think so? Sometimes, around here, the lanes are so narrow, there is only room for one - and you have to squeeze into a hedge to let the oncoming traffic pass.

Are you listening to me?

You talk at length of your troubles
I have heard your hopes, dreams and fears
I can answer 'yes' when you ask 
Oi! You listening to me, dear?

I smile and I reassure you
Of course, I say, I am all ears
Glued to you: the story teller
And spinner of long-winded tales

But then when I open my mouth
It seems my words fall on deaf ears
They melt in the mist that gathers
Like the froth on your pint of beer

Nothing I say seems to matter
Your eyes glaze over and you leer
Now I say to you, hand on heart
Oi! You listening to me, dear?

I went to the dentist yesterday - a new one where I now live. It was all very high tech, and I was told that there is tension in my jaw which, so the dentisit says, could account for the pains I have in my neck, occasional headaches, and so on. Apparently I grind my teeth, clamp my jaw tight and create the tension myself. It's fixable, at a price. I can have a teeth guard made, and wear it at night ... I don't like putting things in my mouth ... so I'll have to go for the alternative remedy: stop gritting my teeth!

Today's poem sums up how I feel about someone special who is, at this moment, driving in the wrong direction: away from me.

What counts

It's not how he looks
What he says or does
It's not how rich or poor
Not the size of his car
Nor any other fine part
Of his manly anatomy

I measure my man
By how good he feels 
When he takes hold my hand
While we lie side by side
How gently he touches me
As his palm caresses my thigh

And what matters most
When I think it through
As he whispers goodbye 
And starts to drive away 
When I pin my feelings down
Is that I long for his return

I am sure that tomorrow I will look back on today and accept that what happens is for the best. Today, though, I am unsettled, almost unnerved by uncertainty. Almost.

Not this year

Such a slim divide
Between yes and no
A reluctance gap
Between stop and go

Hestitation feeds
That ripple of fear
Today? Tomorrow?
Not yet. Not this year 

It rained most of yesterday. Having been away, there was a backlog of emails and other correspondence and bills to pay. We set to, without much enthusiasm. However, it's mostly done ... so we start with a clear desk today - and now the sun is shining!

Turning the corner

Yesterday's rain clouds dominate the sky
They create an umbrella of despair
Half hearted attempts at clearing the desk
Drain a heavy heart in need of repair 

The corner has to be turned, when we can
To put behind us the pain and regret
In time, it'll be just a memory
One that we're only too glad to forget

The slow sunrise brings with it a sparkle
A sure sign that this new day could embrace
The joy that belongs to all those living
Close to the edge of a fun loving space

Feel the gentle June breeze massage our minds
While the warmth of the rays caress our skin
Let's throw wide the doors and step boldly forth
Setting free the desire that lurks within

This past week has been interesting. I have been involved in a year's preparation of information with the intention of arriving at a fair settlement between two parties on a 50:50 basis. On the one side, there was a man who was willing to share, in this equal fashion, the 'spoils' of a 30-year marriage. On the other, it now transpires, was a woman who sought only revenge - although I'm not quite sure for what.

In my naivity, I assumed the court process would see through her unreasonable demands for more than 50% of the combined honeypot. Instead, I witnessed a process where 'negotiation' was made between the 50:50 'fair' position and her much higher demands. What happens is that the judge recommends the parties 'split the difference' and there is horse trading along the lines of 'you agree to my unreasonable demands or I will drag you to court for two further hearings which will cost you even more than you have already forked out ... and you'll have to wait another six months before you'll taste freedom'.

This was not a mugging in an ill-lit side street; one person was robbed by another in full view of several legal representatives and a judge who did not refer to the hundreds of pages of documentation that had been prepared in support of each party's position.

I am not impressed.

Fair's fair?

In the world of financial settlement
Where there's a lifetime of assets to share
What's crystal clear, I’m ashamed to relate
Is a legal process that’s far from fair
 
It matters not how their past lives were spent
No one cares a jot as to who left whom
Facts are unheard and no blame is attached
Stood face to face in an airless court room

It's nothing to do with justice, m'lord
Just the revenge one desires to inflict
What carries debate, what decides your fate
The counsel opines and facts contradict

Expensive lawyers act as go-betweens
Carting clients’ demands and counter claims
Their goal is clearly to run up huge bills
As blinkered horse traders, blind to your aims

So, how much are you willing to pay, sir
And just how deep are your pockets today
On offer: an end to your misery
An exit from this demeaning affray

In the end, you’ll part with more than you should
A hefty premium to stop this farce
But ill-gotten gains can’t buy happiness
And those who cheat, become the underclass

A retreat, with integrity intact
And the freedom to choose your future path
Beats the wealth of the apparent winner
In the debris of divorce aftermath

Another prompt from MoreWriting's flash Poetry group for this week is 'time travel'.

Time travel

I feel like a blind-folded bull
Set loose in a bone china shop
Bumbling, stumbling time traveller
Living life till I'm told to stop

At each sun rise, I make grand plans
I set my course, and spy my goal
But then I step forward, sadly
Into the nearest life loophole

Each night, I reflect on the day
Where was it that I went so wrong
Exhausted, I fall fast asleep 
In your arms, where I now belong

In my dreams, I greet my true friends
The ones standing strong by my side
And my foes, those who strengthen me
For the next roller coaster ride

I need my friends, of course I do
They provide companionship
Enrich my journey with laughter
Though we're never joined at the hip

But enemies, who block my path 
I owe to them the greatest debt
They make me pause, and give me cause
To rethink, and change my mind set

Today, as I face a challenge
As I steel myself for the fight
I embrace the power in me
To time travel towards the light