Poems and Music

The inspiration behind all three of the poems below was my autumn garden. Each poem was written at various stages throughout the season. As I watched the landscape slowly change from vibrant red berries, pink flowers and lush green leaves to the dying shades of winter I wanted to try and capture the slowly changing outdoor scene through my words.

The first poem is something rather special. I wrote it when I was drafting out the story line for the book I am now working on. I was struggling to find a suitable way for the story to end. I ventured out into my garden and the words of the poem below flowed immediately.

I first shared the poem with my Twitter followers in September 2019 and I was delighted when one lady from Philadelphia commented to tell me she had enjoyed reading the poem to the point where it had  brought to mind a song she is particularly fond of. The song is called 'Tell Me A Tale' by the talented Michael Kiwanuka. 

I immediately listened to the song and I was overwhelmed at what a perfect match it is for my poem. Here is a link to the song on You Tube. It has a lovely laid back, jazzy feel about it. Perfect for relaxing to.

And here is my poem...

Etchings of Autumn

Through a curtain of leaves

summer waves goodbye

as crayons of autumn

etch patterns in my mind.

Rich September palette,

red gold and green

place the brush in my hand,

help me set the scene.

Soft autumn breeze

inspire creativity,

place the pen in my hand

give my story to me.

© Jill Webb September 2019

The subject of the second poem is a feeling of loss. This will be one of the key themes running through my story and I was drawn towards writing the poem when my eyes landed on one of the empty chairs in my garden.

The Empty Chair

A waterfall 

of autumn leaves

cascading 

memories

tapestry of 

fading green

wrap an arm 

around me.

Solitude is

a precious thing

a window 

into the soul,

wiping hidden

tears away

and showing

the way home.

Lonely nights

are calling

but with stories

left to share

I no longer

want to look

and see

an empty chair.

© Jill Webb October 2019

As I walked down the garden on one of the many rainy days we've been having  lately I could feel the first chill of winter in the air. When I noticed the winter jasmine in full flower it instantly lifted my spirits and kind of illuminated the garden. I tried to capture this feeling in my third poem.

Jasmine Sunshine

Raindrops 

like tears,

rolling down 

a misty pane, 

autumn leaves 

twirl and fall,

words we never 

got to say.

Tiny streams 

of rain

reflect the hazy,

dying light.

Sometimes you 

feel so close

I can see things

through your eyes.

Branches shiver 

in the wind,

like my mind,

they're never still.

Your voice echoes

in my head

I feel your pain,

shed your tears.

Through grey 

autumn mist 

a ray of sunshine

appears.

A burst of hope,

a guiding light

eclipsing doubt

and fears.

Whilst you are 

in my head

I will listen

to my heart.

Illuminating

splash of gold,

you're my candle

in the dark.

© Jill Webb November 2019

Thank you for taking the time to read my poems. I will be back with more in the not too distant future.

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Story Line Poems (Twin Flame Collection)

Here is another set of poems, written as I've been drafting out the story line for my first ever book. It's been a long and interesting journey. Over the coming months I shall start writing the first chapters of the book, and in doing so I will be taking the first steps towards fulfilling a life long ambition.

For now though, I hope you enjoy the poetry.

Through Your Eyes

The air is heavy

with sights and smells

of faraway lands and time.

Foundations built

on stolen bricks,

you're seeing it

through my eyes.

Tucked in a corner,

expressionless face,

man or boy I can't be sure.

Inanimate

intermediary

I'm seeing it

through your eyes.

©Jill Webb July 2019

The Damselfly

You twitch and flutter 

hesitantly

afraid to fly away,

but the leaf on which 

you rest your head

is no longer 

a comfortable place.

Don’t be afraid 

to spread your wings,

don't fear the unknown.

The breeze that softly 

calls your name

will carry you 

all the way home.

©Jill Webb July 2019

Firefly

You were here for such a short time but you set my world alight. A beacon of hope, hypnotic light show a glow so pure and bright. Firefly, your mesmerizing display was a precious magical thing and even though your dance is no more your light will stay on for me.

©Jill Webb June 2019

October Sunset

Today the sun
with its halo like glow
disperses into
the shimmering sea.
Unturned stones,
statues on the beach,
unsaid words,
whispers in the breeze.
Cotton wool clouds
like outstretched arms
evaporate slowly,
eclipsed by the dark.

October shadows,
long touching fingers,
ethereal creatures,
memories that linger.
The tide sweeps away
what is left of the year,
golden leaves fall,
new horizons appear.

I never quite reached
the water's edge
but I still hear the waves
crashing in my head.
A flock of gulls,
a waving hand,
I follow their path, 
draw a line in the sand.
But should winds of change
ever call my name,
I am only ever
 a heartbeat away.

©Jill Webb October 2019


The Misty Pane Of Glass

My life moves in
slow motion
behind a misty
pane of glass.
Only thoughts
of you appear
lucid and clear,
your eyes,
your voice,
your pain,
your tears.

If only I
could reach you,
I need to
understand.
I need
verification,
confirmation,
but fear
keeps on
holding 
you back.

©Jill Webb January 2020

The Ethereal Creatures

Every time
I look in the trees
I see visions
Of you and me,
Ethereal Creatures
With outstretched arms,
Moonbeams dancing
With hearts on fire.

In the shade of
The lush green leaves
I sense your presence,
You seemed so near.
We came so close
To touching hands,
To pouring oil
On troubled minds.

For as long as we
Are both alive
And I am haunted 
By your eyes,
I will never stop hoping
That one day we
Will find our way
Back into the trees.

©Jill Webb March 2020

Clouds of Confusion

I used to sit here 
Night after night,
Mind illuminated
By candle light.
Staring through darkness,
Clouds of confusion,
Your eyes, a mirror
A distorted illusion.

Have you ever imagined
Retracing your steps,
Swimming through fear
Teetering on the edge?
Would you open your arms
Seize the opportunity,
Dance under the stars
With what might have been?


©Jill Webb June 2020

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Poems Two

To mark my 58th birthday I want to share three poems that are particularly special to me.

The first poem was written back in 1985. As I walked home from the bus stop one misty November 5^th evening, I couldn’t fail to notice all the fireworks exploding in the sky around me, the heavy aroma of bonfires burning and the sound of children squealing with excitement. The sights, sounds and smells inspired me to write this poem.

Visions of November

Waves of murky brown smoke

gently ripple over my tousled head,

and that rich, intoxicating aroma

plays havoc with my sense,

conjuring up a thousand vivid memories

of chestnuts, brandy snap, childhood aspirations

and hot steamy breath evaporating in the night.

Unthinkingly I turn to stare

at the stark silhouettes of cold

bare trees on parade for the night,

then a rainbow coloured shower

suddenly bursts into view,

glittering like tinsel in the chilled November air,

until fading, twinkling, dying

it flutters down to kiss the ground.

Droves of excited children circle around,

their small frames protected by

thick woolly garments,

lovingly knitted by elderly relatives.

Their squeals are high pitched,

their laughter infectious

and their ruddy little faces

are so eager, so alive.

In the flickering orange glow of the bonfire

a bedraggled yet beaming Guy Fawkes

is crackling and burning

and in my mind's eye I see my father

leaning over to light a dormant gunpowder treat

whilst I clutched my mother's hand

and watched every second

in starry eyed amazement.

©Jill Webb

I wrote the second poem not long after the birth of my second son. His birthday is the same as that of my late grandfather and this caused me to reflect on my own childhood and the special place my grandpa had in my life. The poem was featured in an anthology named ‘Sealed With A Kiss’ in 2000.

Letter to Grandpa

I wish that I could tell you

how much you mean to me,

that all I now appreciate

I was then too young to see.

If only I could thank you

for always being there,

through growing pains

and teenage moods

I had no doubt you cared.

I wish that my two children

could play beside your feet

for them not to

have known you

means their lives

are less complete.

I hope that I can teach them

by actions that you showed

that those who give

without needing to take

are the ones

who love you the most.

As I briefly mentioned in my opening post on this blog, over the last few months I have taken the first steps towards fulfilling a lifelong ambition of writing a book. The story is going to have a strong psychic theme running through it and will be based around the subject of twin flame relationships.

The Twin Flames

You are

a reflection of me,

a mirror image

of what I see.

All that you feel

I feel it too,

my strengths, my failings

I see in you.

Those glowing shades

of gold and red,

the spark you ignited

inside my head,

without you

my life is incomplete,

a jigsaw puzzle

with a missing piece.

Without you

my life is no longer ablaze,

shades of misty blue

are all that remain.

©Jill Webb November 2018

Welcome to my new blog

Back in the 1980s I wrote a music and poetry fanzine in Hull, United Kingdom called Kindred Spirit. I also had a number of short stories published in women's magazines and I regularly wrote music reviews for a local paper. 

Sadly life got in the way from the end of the 80s and I drifted away from creative writing altogether for almost a decade, when I had another short spell of writing poetry. I had several of my poems published over a period of four years, then sadly drifted away once more. 

After taking my youngest son to Hull train station one murky October morning in 2015 the idea landed in my head from nowhere that I should revisit my creative days by publishing the contents of my fanzines online.

Fast forward to May 2017 and my blog - Kindred Spirit, the story of a 1980s Hull fanzine - finally went live. It is an unashamed nostalgia trip and has given me a massive amount of pleasure too. But more importantly, writing the blog combined with other life experiences has enabled me to tap back into the creative side I moved away from years ago. The fuse has well and truly been lit once more where poetry writing is concerned and I have taken the first tentative steps towards fulfilling a lifelong ambition - writing my first book.

In January 2018 my oldest son suggested I joined Twitter in order to further develop my fanzine blog. I was rather sceptical at first and I hadn't got a clue how it worked when I signed up, but I can honestly say now I am glad I took his advice! It has brought me into contact with hundreds of like minded people from all over the world and has well and truly taken on a life of its own.

As a result of joining Twitter I have been inspired to start sharing some of the poetry I’ve written over recent times, but in doing this I realise I am ready to spread my wings beyond the 280 character limit. Setting up a new blog where I could share my writing without limits seemed like a really good idea.

To start the ball rolling I've decided to to share two poems about a rugged little spot on the Humber estuary with a beauty all of its own called Paull. It is a place I have visited many times over the years and is a never ending source of inspiration to me. 

The first poem was written only a few weeks ago when I was feeling in a reflective mood. As I walked along the sun drenched River Humber more pieces of the jigsaw dropped into place regarding where I'm going with my book. The walk ended with me mentally drafting out the poem below.

The second poem was written back in 1995 and was published in a book called Eastern England Poets. It was the first piece of writing I'd had published for eight years and it has a special place in my heart for that reason. Because it was written during the period when my sons were both pre-school age, reading the poem always brings back memories of what were without a doubt the happiest days of my life.

I hope you will enjoy what I have to share. Please feel free to leave a comment on anything you see.

Shifting Sands

I’ve lost count of how many times

over the years

this river has mirrored

my laughter, my tears.

I’ve watched my two sons

who are now grown men

run side by side

to the water's edge.

Their breathless laughter

echoes in my mind

every time I reflect on

the changing tides.

I’ve mourned my losses,

searched for answers too

through misty horizons

and crystal clear views.

For each pebble, each ripple

through sunshine and rain

there is one thing

that will never change.

There is no other place

in this world

where I breathe more deeply,

see more clearly

or listen so intently

to what my heart tells me.

©Jill Webb August 2019

Reflections From Paull

Take a drive past the Saltend chemical plant,

By the pipework and exhaling towers,

Tucked discreetly behind this generating mass

Overlooking the Humber, a village can be found.

Quite often I find myself down here,

On the weather torn, ramshackle pier

Today is dull and overcast

But some days the view is astonishingly clear.

To my right is the small but proud lighthouse,

Peeping its head above houses and pubs,

My gaze swings along the river's edge

And there, swinging heavily are cranes in the dock.

The huge blue and white North Sea Ferry

Patiently waits to set sail,

The Humber Bridge - our jewel in the crown,

Seems a matchstick construction through feathery rain.

In the distance lies the flat south bank,

A patchwork quilt of multi coloured fields,

And a host of buoys accompanied by gulls

Seem to find their way home to this seaweed-soaked beach.

The misty view is by many

Not considered a picturesque scene,

But whilst I'm here, for several minutes at least

Cares gently dissolve into the ripples of the sea.

© Jill Webb

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