TJ’s Household Haiku Challenge – Potpourri

May 29, 2016freyathewriter 5 Comments

you remind me of
grandma, her love of soft scents
cocooned in glass bowls

childish joy, fingers
crush desiccated petals –
aromas unleashed!

Thank you to Ritu for posting her entry into TJ’s Household Haiku Challenge – she inspired me to take part!

As you can see, potpourri has strong memories for me. In the 1970s, when I was a little girl, it was a ‘big thing’ here in the UK (or at least, that’s my memory). I think there were revivals in the 80s and 90s too. Perhaps now as well, but whatever the case, it reminds me of being little again, which is an absolute delight.

If you enjoy poetry, if you enjoy haiku, if you are intrigued by haiku and what to try writing your own (3 lines, 5-7-5 syllable format), whatever the case, why not take part in TJ’s weekly prompt? I’ve written a few before, courtesy of dVerse, and I love the short, concentrated format, trying to encapsulate so much into so little.

Impressment – SoCS May 28/16

May 28, 2016freyathewriter 7 Comments

The pressgang pillaged our hamlet. We women, we thought we would be safe. We thought our men would be safe.

We were wrong.

I could not let them take him, my brother. he was too weak, too young, too necessary to keep Mother company. I could be spared, I could adapt. Dickon could not. He was Mother’s favourite, she and I were too different. Not a day would pass when we did not bicker, when I tended the crops one way, and she would undo all my handiwork. I could not stitch or spin or weave to her satisfaction. Dickon – he knew how to manage her, he could do all the things that I failed at so miserably.

I dressed as a boy, looked like a man, and the men of the impressment took me.

I am here now, aboard HMS Magnanime, about to go into battle with the French, yet again. I am slight, I am nimble, I can ascend to the very top of the highest mast and not succumb to the pull of the sea. I am the youngest, the best, so says the captain.

I am homesick. I am seasick. But I am glad.

Her’s this week’s entry into the lovely Linda’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt, where she has asked us to use the word ‘press’, either on its own or as part of a word beginning or ending with press as our inspiration.

The British Royal Navy was in the habit of using pressgangs to forcibly recruit people into service. For non-officers, there was no real concept of choosing a life at sea in service as a career, so the pressgangs (formally the Impress Service) would scour the country to select suitable men. Contrary to popular legend, they did not have the power to recruit anyone other than seafarers. But why let the truth get in the way of a good story!

Please do take part in Linda’s weekly prompt – you never know what will come into your mind! Please also pop along to read other entries – they will be many and varied!

The Man Who… dVerse Poetics – Character Study

May 18, 2016May 18, 2016freyathewriter 15 Comments

The man who took me on
as part of the deal
The man who never once
made me feel –

in the way,
unwanted, not cared for

The man who carved lanterns
for Halloween fun
The man who made theatres
and allowed me to run –

matters off-stage,
free reign, made miniature

The man who was there, quiet
in my background
The man who loved me
as if he had found –

my small heart
and held it, so gently

A man who I love
admire and respect
A man who I hope
will only reflect –

that he fashioned a good life
for a daughter, pre-made

From the bottom of my heart
For the man who…

Today over on dVerse, our guest host Walter Wojtanik asks us to write about the character or characters who have influenced our lives – the good, the bad, and maybe the ugly. Whoever and however they may be, he invites us to write about them. Why not pop over and see what Walter has to say, and take part?

I first posted the poem above back in November 2013, and I am unashamedly recycling it, because this particular man, my step-dad, has been a rock for our entire family, never making me, his only step-child, feel anything other than his. He never treated me differently to my brother and sister, has never done anything other than be my parent, and a wonderful one at that. When I wrote this poem, I was 5 months down the line from losing my dad. it was a horrible, horrible time. Little did I know that whilst all that was going on, my step-dad was going through some really tough health problems, which were very hard for my mum as well. She and he have pulled through it – they are a strong and tough act. I admire them both greatly, love them dearly and count myself lucky to have them both in my life.

By the way, the photo above is a small part of my parents’ garden… 🙂