November Mist

The past meets the present in this poetry collection, which I have posted to compliment the latest post on my other blog telling the story of how I came to start the fanzine I wrote in the 1980s called Kindred Spirit.

My poetry writing journey started back in 1979 as a result of listening to an album by The Jam called All Mod Cons, then subsequently reading poetry written by a former member of the band - Dave Waller. The full story and much more memorabilia can be found here.

To start off I would like to rewind to 1979. After reading a booklet of Dave Waller's poetry called 'Notes From Hostile Street' a whole new light was shone on the area of poetry for me, which I previously had viewed as a rather dry subject. Reading Dave's work, combined with my love and admiration for Paul Weller's lyrics was what inspired me to start writing poetry of my own. 

The poem below was written after walking home alone one November 5th. Fireworks were exploding in the sky creating clouds of colour. There was something about it I found eerie, atmospheric and inspirational.

The poem later went on to feature in issue one of my fanzine.

The Day The World Turned Blue

I looked to the sky for consolation,

The moon had been replaced

By thousands of coloured lights.

They shone from behind the clouds,

Creating eerie shadows

Which seemed to move nearer

As I quickened my pace.

A blue haze drifted over the tarmac,

Distorted shadows swaying

Like a drunken man in the park,

Pointing insensitive fingers

Towards my trembling body.

The church bells rang out, but time stood still,

Houses in complete darkness,

Enveloped by thick blue smoke,

Assaulting the darkness

Street lights flickered in vain

Until they ceased to illuminate.

I peered around each corner cautiously

No people could be seen, 

No traffic on the roads,

No animals, no movement,

I was complete alone.

Drowning in a sea of thick blue smoke.

Sadly life got in the way and I drifted away from creative writing altogether from the late 80s. I had a brief spell of writing poetry in the mid 90s following the birth of my sons, some of which were published in various anthologies.  Beyond this there was a gap of 22 years. Then in November 2018 I felt compelled to pick up a pen and write a poem called "Twin Flames". This poem is featured in an earlier post here on my blog. 

From this point on the creative fuse has well and truly been lit and I am back to writing poetry on a regular basis. I am so thankful! What it has confirmed to me however is that if you are a creative person, that creativity never actually leaves you. It's just that sometimes it takes something rather unexpected to relight the flame.

Sunbeams

Sunbeams dancing

Through golden leaves,

A moment preserved

In my memory,

Reflections of all

That could have been

Are swept away

By the whistling wind.

The Robin

As light as the feathers

On her breast,

She landed by my feet.

Uncertain dark eyes

Sparked a memory

Of the way you could always

Read my mind.

She settled down by

A fluttering leaf

And in that moment I knew,

Although you are no longer

In my life

You still see things

Through my eyes.

November Mist

A watery brush

Glides across the sky,

Hints of pale pink,

The remains of the fire.

Etched shells and pebbles

Roll with the sea,

Echoes of your voice

Turn raindrops to tears.

Diamond encrusted,

Sparkling blue,

Through November mist

I see visions of you.

Confetti Leaves

Through shady woodland

And leafless trees

I see visions

Of rosy cheeks,

Infectious laughter,

Excited shrieks,

Outstretched arms

Grabbing handfuls of leaves,

Scattering them

Like confetti,

Oak, ash, silver birch

And beech,

Float like feathers

In the breeze,

Sing like 

An autumn memory.

Beyond Sunset

Beyond sunset

What remains of the day

Is gently erased

By midnight blue waves.

A golden halo

That burned so bright

Evaporates into

Pink clouds of night.

Sailing into

The twilight dusk

A solitary boat

Pushes ripples out.

Circling birds,

Horizons fade

Until sun rises on

A brand new day.

Guiding Light

Golden halo,

Guiding light,

You are the sun

That once burned bright.

I wish I could

Freeze frame the sky,

Hold back the tide,

The onset of night.

You dissolve behind

A cluster of clouds,

Soft bursts of hope

In smoky grey,

Remembering

The dancing beams

That lit my path

And showed me the way.

Remember Me

Through whispering wind

I am still here,

Don't be afraid

To call my name.

Through November sun

And pale blue skies,

Moods reflected

In rolling tides.

Through floating clouds,

Soar like a bird,

Don't be afraid 

To open your heart.

Secrets scattered

Into the sea

Will return to shore

When our eyes meet.

Many thanks as always for reading. I hope you have enjoyed my poetry. If you would like to come and join me on Twitter the link to my profile is below:-

   Jill Webb Words

Autumn Leaves

This year has for many been a difficult one for so many of us.  I personally have found myself drawing comfort from the beauty of nature as the seasons have changed. It is the one thing that has remained constant through all the uncertainty and misery we are facing as a result of the pandemic. 

All of the poetry in this post has been inspired by the beautiful colours of autumn and I am once again delighted to join forces with my friend and gifted poet Joe Praks, who I know has even more of an appreciation of the gifts Mother Nature bestows upon us than I do.

I hope the verses will add a little sunshine to your day.

Gracefully floating like butterflies

In shades of pink and green,

The autumn leaves are the stars of the show

As they wave goodbye to the trees.

They soar and swirl, drawing patterns

In the misty October air,

Leaving silhouettes of trees,

A mesh of branches so bare.

They gently demand attention

From all who cross their path,

Touching, caressing, they make their mark

On a carpet of dew soaked grass.

The crushed rose

Lays down her crumpled head

On a blanket of grass so green,

Her sweet heart

Yearns for faraway days

When she danced

In the warm summer breeze.

Through dew soaked curves

She remembers his smile,

Now enshrouded in golden mist,

The stars are waiting

To carry her home

Through the warmth

Of a fuchsia's kiss.

The next three poems are by Joe Praks. If you would like to connect with him on Twitter and read more of his poetry he can be found here or on Instagram here.

Autumnal beauty

Caressing my senses

My soul is wide open

I let love in

Breathing out my worries

Dreaming of your eyes

Your smile

I wish not to wake up

My heart just dances.

Autumnal colours

And dreaming of you

A wee walk

And back to my dream

It's my plan for today

It's all I'm going to do.

Golden autumnal morning

Wearing her colours proudly

True colours of this fall,

I'm walking alone, my deserted street

Dead leaves sounding under my feet,

I'm walking towards my dream as

It's my next goal.

Am I afraid if I'm not to wake up?

Absolutely not at all.

The tide is rolling away from me,

Water slipping through my hands,

Leaving clusters of unturned stones

And footprints in the sand.

Blue sky dissolves into floating clouds,

Words we never got to say

Sail away like an autumn leaf

Carried by a distant wave.

I pull back curtains

Of autumn leaves

To reveal

A shimmering lake,

I jump aboard

A boat of reeds

To take me to

A faraway place

When October shone

Like a pot of gold

And nothing

Obscured my view,

And through the curtains

I watched dawn break

As I held out

My hand to you.

Thank you as always for taking the time to read. If you would like to join me on Twitter I can be found at...

https://twitter.com/jillwebbwords

Potpourri

Welcome to my latest poetry collection. I hope you will enjoy what I have to share with you this month.

To start on a high note, I was delighted when the poem below was selected as a runner up in a recent poetry competition organised by the over 50s digital community - Rest Less. When I read some of the other wonderful entries I was even more flattered that my poem had been chosen. Here is a link.

The inspiration behind this poem was my beautiful cat Cleopatra. However as a life long cat lover I believe the sentiments apply to all of our feline friends.

Feline

She winds then unwinds

With elegant ease,

Never drops her guard

Even in her sleep.

Her silky ears twitch,

In the blink of an eye,

Sweet sleep forgotten

She snaps into life.

Finely tuned senses,

The edge of attack,

With stealth and grace

She takes higher ground.

Through bristling fur

Her eyes are fixed

On things unseen by

A mere human being.

Within minutes she

Returns casually,

Leaps on my lap

Purring oh so softly,

My time starts now,

A game played by two,

But only she knows

And sets the rules.

I wrote the second poem for my Mum on her 84th birthday. As we both share a love of lavender there was never any question about what the subject of the poem would be.

Lavender Dreams

A soft fragrant cloud

Floats before my eyes,

Painted butterflies dance

In the palm of my hand.

All background noise

Slowly fades into

A sensory field

I tiptoe through.

Lavender dreams

Drenched in purple mist,

Dry petals of bliss

Like a butterfly's kiss.

My earliest memory is of my Dad taking me on his bicycle to see what I now know is the smallest window in England. I think I must have only been around three years old at the time. The window is in an area of Hull's old town and is often mistaken for a slit in the wall. If you would like to know more about the history of the window here is an interesting article. 

I wrote the following poem on Father's Day this year in memory of my Dad.

The Smallest Window In The World

From the back seat of your bicycle

I hung on to your every word

When you told me one of your wonderful tales

About the smallest window in the world.

You carried me to the slit in the wall,

The picture you painted was clear,

I imagined two tiny figures

On the inside peeping at me.

You gave them names and voices,

Described the colour of their clothes,

I soaked up every detail

As I laughed at all their jokes.

And when it was time to go back home,

 I did not want to leave them behind,

As you pedalled the story continued

In my illuminated mind.

Imagination was the greatest gift

You could have ever given to me,

Every time I think of that window

Your laughter echoes through my tears.

I never cease to feel privileged the odd time I have been lucky enough to get up close and personal with one of our feathered friends. I was inspired to write the next poem after one such occasion.

The Flutter

I saw you perched

Beside the leaves,

Your sharp eyes 

Darting nervously. 

I approached you

Slowly, tentatively,

Warm anticipation

Washed over me.

You were close enough

For me to see

Your mottled breast

And hooked brown beak.

Hardly moving a muscle

In my face

I felt priveleged

To be in your space.

I slowly extended

A trembling hand,

I must have taken

A step too far.

In the blink of an eye

You took to the sky,

One moment for ever

Engraved in my mind.

And to finish here is a selection of flower inspired poems.

Raindrops

Raindrops, 

Like teardrops,

Tiny mirrors

Of the soul.

Raindrops, 

So refreshing,

Life giving 

Tender rose.

Raindrops, 

Caressing,

Rejuvenating

Love. 

Raindrops,

Dissolving

In the early

Morning sun.

Honeysuckle Parade

Acrobatic hedgerow dancers

Doing cartwheels on the leaves,

Extrovert feathered birds

Spread your wings and fly with me.

When I stare into your spokes

I see enticing fairground wheels,

Calypso beats and pink flamingos,

Exotic carnival of dreams.

The Carnation

Beauty preserved

In a frame of glass, 

Ever present visions

Of memories past.

The night they met,

The touch of his hand,

Spotlights dancing, 

The warmth of his smile.

He presented her

With a single white flower,

It became a symbol

Of who they were.

So many years

Have ebbed and flowed,

Too many pale sunsets

Watched alone. 

Laughter mingles

With lonely tears

But there is one time

Her mind is still,

Through the silky scent

Of a fresh carnation,

She closes her eyes

As he pulls her to him.

*********************************

Thank you as always for taking the time to read my poetry. If you want to join me on Twitter I can be found at...

https://twitter.com/jillwebbwords

Song Based Verses Part Two

Here is the second four of the eight poems I wrote giving my take on a number of different well known songs. The first four poems can be found here.

The songs featured in this entry cover a cross section of musical styles.  I hope you will enjoy reading. 

Song #5 - Call Me by Blondie

This 1980 thunderbolt of a tune is one of my favourite songs by Blondie. It has been covered many times across the last four decades and was the theme to the film 'American Gigolo'. 

The almost surreal lyrics of the song sparked my imagination into life and here is my take on it: 

Bells start ringing

Ruby red, emerald green

As your name ignites

My telephone screen.

I will paint a picture

In pastel shades,

Brush stroke blues

By a shimmering lake.

I will walk barefoot

Across dew-soaked grass

To harness the moment

And make it last.

I will walk over rocks

Worn down by waves,

Soak up words I longed

To hear you say.

I will dance underneath

A silver birch tree,

Feel your heart flutter

Just like the leaves.

I will light you a candle,

Embrace the heat

Flames of recognition

When our eyes meet.

Bells start ringing

Ruby red, emerald green

As your name ignites

My telephone screen.

Song #6 - Nobody's Diary by Yazoo

This song was released as a single in 1983 although it had been written by Alison Moyet several years earlier. I love the heartfelt nature of the lyrics and the emotional delivery Alison does so well.

Several weeks ago I heard this song on the radio for the first time in a long time. As I listened to the story Alison tells through her words I decided this was another candidate for a song based verse.

I can't believe

It has come to this,

Strings of unspoken words

Linger like a last kiss.

Precious memories,

Crisp, clean and concise

Of when hearts were soaring

Like eagles in flight.

Then innermost thoughts

In wiry black ink

Discoloured by time,

Crumpled days of the week.

Lonely teardrops fall,
Misty pools on the page,

Illegible thoughts,
Reflections of pain.

Broken words in a diary

Are all that remain,

The dying embers

Of once raging flames.

Song #7 - I Could Have Danced All Night 

This song features in the musical My Fair Lady, also turned into a film featuring Audrey Hepburn.

Last year it was given a 21st century style makeover by Faultline featuring the vocals of JAKL. This version of the song was used as a backdrop for an Audi TV advert.

The very first time I heard it, for some reason it struck a chord deep inside me and every time I hear the song it provokes a deeply emotional response. A series of clear mental images were subsequently triggered leading to me writing the poem below.

If I hold out my hand

Would you dance with me?

Allow my heart to keep time

As we sweep across the floor.

Catch the light in our eyes

As they shine diamond bright,

Watch the background fade out

As we swirl around once more.

If I hold out my hand

Would you dance with me?

Grand pianos are playing

Somewhere in the distance

Like the tinkling backdrop

Of a black and white film,

Capturing the moment,

Silver dreams and romance.

If I hold out my hand

Would you dance with me?

Reach high, swoop low,

Step on paths we've never known,

Marvel at a mountain view,

Dive into the oceans blue,

Before the warmth of our smiles

Slowly carries us back home.

Song #8 - Kayleigh by Marillion

I am currently in the process of writing my first book and the poem below plus the song 'Kayleigh' will feature in it. The contents of the poem are loosely based on Fish's wonderful poetic lyrics but also form a part of my own story line.

They met when they were eighteen

On a balmy July night,

In a misty teenage haze

It felt like love at first sight.

She was his ballerina

As she danced upon the grass,

They caressed under the moonlight,

Made each tender moment last.

She wore a purple bow

In her curly golden hair,

Tiny sparks of warm excitement

When his eyes met hers.

Blinded by young love

They ignored what others said,

They married two years later

Confetti scattered in their heads.

Neither of them really knew

When love disintegrated,

Fragments of what could have been

Like snow, evaporated.

Heads echoed with unspoken words,

Fear of the unknown,

Trembling fingers hovered

But never reached the phone.

Snowdrops bowed their graceful heads

And clouds eclipsed the stars,

Raindrops washed away their tears

But did not mend their broken hearts.

Thank you as always to everyone who takes the time to read my poetry. I will be back very soon with more of the same.

If you want to join me on Twitter I can be found at...

https://twitter.com/jillwebbwords