Archive for June, 2012|Monthly archive page
Love is…
Love is…
…being caught in the sheer pleasure of a moment
…seeing beauty in all of nature’s creations
…an unspoken connection between 2 people
…easy, when you open your mind, heart and soul to its possibilities
…as it is and perfect as it is!
© Jacky Leonard 2011
Crazy for you
Filed under: Just for fun, Love | Tags: Love, missing you, poetry
Leave a comment I think I’m going crazy
Or perhaps I’m not at all
It’s probably down to feeling
All these symptoms of withdrawal
That may sound quite confusing
But it makes good sense to me
It’s just I’m missing you so much
I love you loads you see!
© Jacky Leonard
Was I wrong?
What we shared I thought was strong
Did I interpret it so wrong?
The intimacy of your touch
To me had always meant so much
Abruptly snatched away, no trace
Left of the passionate embrace
We shared when you believed in me
And how wondrous our love could be
Jacky Leonard © 2011
Click, click, BANG!
Spin the barrel, take aim, fire
Is death the outcome you desire?
The chamber empty, hear the click
No quick end from the cancer stick
So squeeze the trigger once again
Will alcohol provide the end
Or will it be the pills you pop
Because you want the pain to stop.
The horror stories in your brain
Are slowly driving you insane
Into a hell of your own making
A self destructive journey taking
You towards your final bet
A lifestyle of Russian roulette
© Jacky Leonard 2012
© Jacky Leonard
Author’s notes
This was written as an observation on some of the less positive ways we find to ease mental anguish and how easy it is to spiral into a lifestyle of self abuse.
A night time stroll
Filed under: Short stories | Tags: dog, short story, Walking in the Cotswolds
Leave a comment Night had fallen across the Cotswolds, when I took my last walk of the day with my dog, Boots, a small border collie. She was the runt and the black sheep of the litter so we have a real affinity as I often think of myself the same way. Although I’m the eldest of 3, I’m the shortest and the one that has the most unconventional lifestyle.
Anyway, back to our walk. We headed up the lane towards the graveyard; not my usual route, but something drew me towards the silhouette of the church. Boots didn’t mind where we walked, she just wanted to be outside, in her usual place, just ahead of me, leading me up the lane. It was a particularly dark night – almost starless so I only caught glimpses of Boots as she went on ahead of me. My torchlight caught the white patches on her coat and the whites of her eyes each time she came back to round me up, before she darted off again to find interesting new smells.
“Have a heart Boots, Hang on, wait for me” I yelled. This caused her to pause and loiter while I caught up. I sometimes think she does this rather begrudgingly just to humour me and make me believe that I’m in charge. I was particularly slow this evening as my thigh was stiff and sore after a recent badminton match. The adage the older I get the better I was seems apt for me now.
I don’t usually go into the churchyard as you have to put dogs on a lead and Boots isn’t keen on that, but as it was so late I snuck her in. It’s about as rebellious as I get these days. As I walked past the old tombstones I noticed that some were in a poor state of repair, so much so that it was quite difficult to read the inscriptions on a number of them.
Just then something spooked Boots, she yelped and jumped sideways. This happens often and there’s never anything there. I’m convinced she has a sixth sense and sees dead things, so her behaviour doesn’t faze me anymore.
I then spotted a stone I’d never seen before so I limped over to look…the inscription read…
Hear lies the body of Daisy Chain
Only her body they took her brain!
Not just her brain, they took her head
No wonder the poor woman’s dead!
[© Jacky Leonard 2010]
The Poppy
Filed under: Perspectives | Tags: Armistice, nature, Poem, poetry, Poppies, War
Comments (1) Proud and tall within our fields,
A memory of our dead
A vibrant splash of colour,
A brilliant sea of red.
They stand for pain and suffering,
The killing fields of war
Where men and women perished,
As millions have before.
When will the fighting ever end.
Can we hope there’ll be an hour,
When people live as friends in peace
And the poppy’s just a flower.
Jacky Leonard © June 2012
Author’s notes
One of my personal favourites. I was running with my dog, Boots through the Cotswolds lanes to meet one of my best mates for breakfast. I was inspired by the splendour of the thousands of poppies in the fields and struck by the incongruity of their beauty with the horrors of war which they are now associated.
I arrived asking for a pen and paper to capture my thoughts and it was written by the time breakfast was served.
Getting abreast of the situation
Put your shirt on came the shout
Please don’t get your mammaries out
It isn’t big, it isn’t clever,
It’s not even the sort of weather
For showing off your ample chest
Without the covering of a vest.
You’re bound to catch your death of cold,
You really shouldn’t be so bold.
For pity sake, hear what I say
And go and put your tits away!
(Jacky Leonard © 2002)
Questions, questions
Do you love me?
Do you want me?
What are your doubts and fears?
Does commitment frighten you?
Or can you plan for years?
Do you need me?
Do you care?
When will you decide?
Will you always run away
To find a place to hide?
Do I love you?
Do I want you?
Will I always care?
Just open your heart and trust in me
I promise I’ll be there
(Jacky Leonard © 1994)
Blue…
Sunlight shone through tattered curtains
The old house took on a new perspective
A woman rocked in her large chair
Weary, worn and a so reflective
She spied a busy Bumblebee
Just outside the window pane
It buzzed and hummed its life away
Not ever having to explain
Blue was the colour of the sky
The day she chose to pass away
Her friends and family all gone
No point to live another day
Jacky Leonard © 2010
Author’s notes
Written during a Montpellier’s writers group. We were tasked with writing something after just being given the colour blue.
Oops!
There was a young man from Dundee
Who wanted to go for a pee
He lowered his zip
To dribble and drip
And piddled all over his knee
Jacky Leonard © 2010
Authors Notes
Written at a Montpellier Writers Group session on limericks
