About Me

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Lincolnshire, United Kingdom
These are my poems, I hope you enjoy reading them :)

Friday, 11 November 2011

Remembrance Day Poem

By wind and rain, at land and sea,
From desert heat to arctic cold,
Never forget the sacrifices of thousands told,
Of fallen fellow’s dreams that come back to our hold.
Nothing can halt them;
No stars like strangers or foreign lands,
They will always find a way to hold our hands.
By tears at night or machine gun fights,
Their ghostly faces bathed in moonlight.
The memories of smiles; their faded time sighs,
In lined pillars of heaven they lie,
While pained, strangled souls yell on the frontline,
The ashes on the wind, frozen moments in time.
Widow’s tears sting in the breeze that whips poppies in their bloody red seas,
Scores of battles ever lasted memories shine,
Lest our hearts forget that sorrow etched inside,
Of the millions of souls who needlessly died.
Our freedom is sacrosanct, but the price is too great;
For this life, our freedom shall never negate.

Sunday, 18 September 2011

Two Skins

Unfolding a tale of a story untold,
The breeze teases her deep down into her soul.
Wind whipping hair around her face,
Winding it's tendrils around her grace.
Carrying her on a whispered release,
Binding her to his, a contemptuous peace.
It pursues a trace of him left in her worth, 
Following his body in beat to the earth.

His spirit is fragile and is crushed under love,
His thoughts flounder at the thought of her, who fitted his soul like a glove,

As paradise shines through the eyes of the other, strangling his heart and making his world dark.

But poison kissed her lips and left her powerless to fly,
Her young, weathered face stares up to the sky,
Rain drops fall softly onto her skin,
As she breathes, her body disappears on the wind.
Yet her soul is captured by his lust to lie,
Falling endlessly into his own personal strife.

Flames licked his face, though no mark can be seen,
A fallacious wrench from life's green sheen,
Scars mapped on the inside like the roots from trees,
He sees her in his mind, powerful an intoxication but he does not care,
Imprisoned in his woe, from the outside looking in, he stares.

A chronicle of pain flickers across his face,
As in his mind he watches her dance in a moonlit place,
Vibrant and free she moves without sorrow or care,
He sees her without him, a fate he cannot bear.

He curses his duties to the other that keep him locked in a cage,
A torment that occasionally fills him with unbridled rage,
He so yearns for her touch, the softness of her skin against his,
Every day is a heartache that shakes his will to live.
His life with another, trapped in pseudo-happiness,
But with her, his life is like unrelenting bliss.

Monday, 15 August 2011

Reverie of Phantasm

Reverie of Phantasm

I awake from my perfect daydream,
Rendering reality from my minds glean,
My fantasy of distance is lovingly obscene;
I glance at the sky and see it drifting away with a heart heavy as coal,
The longing I feel so yearningly with every part of my soul.
My wistful whirring lingers on,
My daydream whispers a silent song,
That natures vibrance curls round each one,
And hums a tune, the sky answers to one:
"You are lost", she says, twirling time between her fingers,
Sorrow becomes her face as she listens to such sadness, while my tears sting her.
I am far off the beaten track, my winding story offers no comforting glee,
Yet I feel the sky's whisper following me,
My guardian of element, her beauty is astounding.
A reaffirmation of my desire leaves my heart pounding.
I look at her vastness in a spellbinding awe,
Will I ever see her from a different place, a happier time in lands of lore?
The wind carries my thoughts to a far off place,
A whirlwind of pipe dreams found in every face,
Turning and falling into the sky's soul desire,
Is what binds me to this place, no matter how my future is dire.
I will dream of one day leaving, but my doubts will occur,
And when I approach rest, I will stroke deaths cold fur;
And listen to all my daydreams from past years as they re-emerge.

Rose xx

Wednesday, 20 July 2011


Hello! Okay, I haven't posted any new poems for a while. I've been working on a few, and this is one that was written one night at silly o clock. It's about following the rambling journey of a mind's unrest that doesn't know which way to turn.. Let me know what you think please! Enjoy xxx

Tumbling Patterns

A bow to the wicked;
A smiling nod to a demons eye.
I shall wait for you on my side of this path,
With a furrowed brow and heavy sigh.

I want to understood your climb,
'Cross bridges; up ladders, into this expanded mind,
I see once furtile fires and lush green copses wilt away;
The darkness of thine mind, appears it is there to stay.
A trifle of lust lost along a broken trail,
A gift from you to signal such betrayal.

While whimsical winds flutter against a breeze of wills,
Creeping darknesses flux across majestic hills,
Subsiding sunshine this fragile is as longing as it seems,
Titanic forces as this of nature's once grim gleam.

They create a fairytale of darkest days,
Their reaches flow deep in waves slowly ebbing at my core,
Sick shattered shadows is all that's left to linger ever more.
Forms of great cities in my mind portray a dance of faith,
A faith in me,
A faith in love,
A faith of tepid hate.

Proportions of crumbling pillars gracefully melt into the tidal sea,
Swimming across, floating around to their resting places next to me.
Whirlpools of memories madness drowns my mind within itself,
A semi self-inflicted mercy of depth, dangers of losing myself in such stealth.

A bright star appears in the midst of this drowning blue sea;
A reach for a light so afar, yet so close to thee,
There is a wonderment of sorts;
Like Shakespeare's tomb in thine thoughts,
A reaction of abundance shocks thousands onto dry land,
A step in the right direction, followed by a step into quick sand.

You must listen to the smallest of sounds,
Quiet fluttering heartbeats growing so loud;
In their quiet existence they live so proud,
Ever waiting for their echo, in anticipation they grow louder too,
Like the protrudence of man's kind shunted on cue.

My heart oscillates a reconnaisance of love evermore,
Only to find shards of living men lurking outside the door.
The pitter patter of this heart of mine,
As peaceful as languid and violent crowds,
One beautiful day will light up my smile again,
This flutter shall remain locked until then;
Safely in keep under sincere opaque clouds.

- Rose 

Saturday, 5 March 2011


Soft, fragile bonds cautiously reached out hoping to find
Compassion and warmth from the humanity of mankind.
Alas, they were greeted by ice, a seemingly endless stream of cold,
Ascending showers of darkness cracked through the world from below.
This tainted the life we live, unfurling mistrust, being unwanted and used,
An eternal fear of hurt, left us too scared of defeat to lose.
We have become like delicate crystals, as fragile as mica or gypsum,
Yet we are expected to be callous, to question all that is kind and winsome.
The fragility of trust, is so easily broken with each person's blackest thought,
Others' harsh words and cruel actions are designed to leave us distraught.
So the kindness we give, can be shattered with lies,
Our strength and honesty tricked by disguise,
A delicate soul is so lost in this world, whose heart has grown so dark;
Our only hope, is for these souls to leave their noble mark.
Their gentle nature can once again bring warmth to Earth's core,
To teach mankind how to feel real love once more.
Still, there are those who would use cruelty as their life's guide,
So beware of those whose minds have become treacherous places to hide,
For they will purge and ignore a delicate soul to rob them of their light,
Leaving such fragile wonderment as lost and cold as they are in the deepest of night.
However, once broken, as a delicate soul is a figure of such light and ethereal aeriform,
Their tender warmth and loving hearts fade into resolve, at the eye of this bitter storm.

- Rose

Monday, 17 January 2011


These are the words of a mind that's torn.
Giving in to images and urges so forlorn.
Afraid to live, yet afraid to die,
Apathy prevents solace, the embitterment of my soul and I.
Am I built to be alone and love one who’s unknown and unclear?
Yet again, caught in a sea of the familiar pain of my peer.

I curse myself,
Too many shadowed thoughts cloud my mind,
One words answers instead of what once resembled happiness so kind,
These words shall not shine through such opaque water,
A journey so bleak you cannot help but falter.

Follow in line, another break down, melt down, again I am here no more,
Displacement, tremble in the fear of losing myself, losing yourself, losing itself forever more!
Those deigned to help seem to resemble the devil, the anti christ, the lycanthropic demon,
Their supposed happiness crawls so elusive in the dark of the PhD heathen.

Snapped back to reality by a calm voice hard to behold,
You are dragging yourself down, I am told,
You allow this state of being, I am told,
By the one who thought a few choice words could make the past disappear.
I am told my head is too dark for you to hold,
Onto the nearest black horizon shall I steer.

Such paranoia will ask;
Will you give up on me,
Are you here for status?
For money?
Do you have a caring side?
Are you as detached in your medical notes as you are in real life?
You fake emotions that burn in my mind as you sit across from me,
With that cool, sympathetic smile and dispirited eyes,
Your lackluster understanding camouflaged as care,
I can see right through you with one simple stare.

But a room full of them, watching me as I stew,
Professionals apparently knowing my mind as I do,
Reminds me of a hospital bed with doctors peering round corners to see the mad girl,
In a haze of sterile, bleached smells how my head does whirl.

I thank you for your textbook thoughts,
The words of other people stolen and rewritten by your hand,
Do not toy with my head and it's onslaught.
My mind is your playground,
Poked by different people, diagnosed, medicated, a state of me to be,
This is my minefield, my nemesis, my own treachery.
Denial is just another form of passive hatred in the bitterness your professional opinion has caused in me.
All I know now is your exasperation and frustration,
That I do not get better with each visit in desperation,
That my mind is still subject to it's own poisonous woe,
A past aching from deep inside my mind it does show.

So just make an appointment,
Next time I will be fine,
Just complain for an hour,
While less than sympathetic eyes roll around my words,
Your replies;  apathetic and concerned.
Aloof recommendations, they hurt inside my head.
You don't want the responsibility of my descent on your time, or on your mind instead.

- Rose

Tuesday, 4 January 2011

Dream The Night Away

I survive in a galaxy of my elusive dreams,
My bubble of safety, of comforting seams.
On a wave of imagination I wonder what I will find,
Surrounded by the colourful pillars of my mind,
Into the gloom, Into the light,
Each tale as unique as the moonlit night,
Enveloping mystical golden hues, oh how they flair!
Spirits of such mumbles seep through clotted orange air,
Ruptured lush valleys slide into warm seas,
As dusting's of snow mingle on high topped peaks,
Iridescent autumn reds glisten along the earthy banks of the creeks.
Swimming through circles of colours unknown to such eyes,
I set sail across the beauty of the ocean's blue tides.
Lilac posies and yellow roses spring up from the ground,
Concerts of perfumed flowers sing soft, sweet sounds,
Underwater, in the sky, across vast space and land,
I travel the universe but as it crumbles like quick sand,
In my flickering eyelids as my mind starts to wake,
Journeys of imagination begin to break,
But tonight, my dreams I will visit once more,
For dreams are the keys to imagination's doors.