W3 | Freya Writes…

Image – author’s own

Those hands,
those deliberate hands
stroking the covers, the pages
caressing them with fingers gloved in leather
I saw them, those fingers, turning page, after page
after page.
Closing a book
placing it to one side
taking another from the pile
set, neatly, tidily, monumentally in the aisle

Those eyes,
Those appraising eyes
looking down, and, then up,
caressing me with ice grey, narrowed in thought
reading me in place of the words on the page
after page
Closing a book
placing me to one side
taking another from the pile
setting me neatly, tidily, placing me in your file

His lips,
his tongue that he slips
between his teeth, fingers he licks
gloved flingers that flip
through pages of books
that he sees but not reads, his covert, foul needs
barely hidden from sight
in the library at night.

A crescendo is reached,
my fear, lurking, creeps
boils out of my skin
I shall not hide from him
I rise, tall and strong,
take my stand
stride my stride
I

walk
to
his
side

I see you
I say
this is the last day that you do this
in your gloved, threatening way
I’m taking a leaf right out of your book
Filing you away, waiting for the day
Until you’re erased and deleted

And I will say
Let him look

*****

Through taking part in the dVerse Open Link Night, I discovered a new-to-me poetry prompt – W3. Organised by David over at The Skeptic’s Kaddish, each week a different poet is Poet of the Week, who’s poem each participant reads before submitting their poem in response to the prompt. The poems are then read by the Poet of the Week who selects the next week’s Poet of the Week.

W3 Prompt #84: Wea’ve Written Weekly’s poet of the week, Selma, has prompted us to write a memory poem reflecting on and celebrating personal memories and experiences, which often evoke feelings of nostalgia, joy, or sadness. She stipulated that it must be between 100 and 300 words long, and must end with ‘Let him/her look’.

I wouldn’t necessarily classify my poem as being nostalgic, but it was definitely inspired by sadness and a heft dollop of fear.

I hope you enjoy reading this poem – do hop on over to the link above on The Skeptic’s Kaddish blog to read more of the wonderful poems. You could even take part yourself!

You disappear, in swirling snow
I whisper ‘Daddy, please don’t go’
You nod and wave to say goodbye
You turn away, I wonder why
Watching from a misty window

I turn away, I mutter ‘No’
This world scares me, I want to go
Shy and frightened, I start to cry
you disappear

Hiding tears, I hang my head low
I want you here to say ‘I know’
Your gentle hand, a light, soft sigh
Be with me now, you have to try
I’ve come this far, don’t let me go
You disappear

*****

Through taking part in Open Link Night, I discovered a new-to-me poetry prompt – W3. Organised by David over at The Skeptic’s Kaddish, each week a different poet is Poet of the Week, who’s poem each participant reads before submitting their poem in response to the prompt. The poems are then read by the Poet of the Week who selects the next week’s Poet of the Week.

W3 Prompt #82: Wea’ve Written Weekly’s poet of the week, Sarah, prompted us to write a rondeau inspired by a childhood memory. I have never written a rondeau before so this was challenging and fun. It has a unique stanza and rhyme pattern that means you do need to dig around in your brain to find the right words, all while remaining true to your chosen theme.

My childhood memory is more reminiscent of a running theme – an intermittent father. This theme runs behind a lot of my work, sometimes overtly, most often not.

I hope you enjoy reading it – do hop on over to the link above on The Skeptic’s Kaddish blog to read more of the wonderful poems. You could even take part yourself!