Dance

https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2026/02/friday-writings-216-just-dance.html

I liked to tap on the wooden floor

I liked the rhythm, the pulse -

It made me feel alive, real

Like my breaths counted for something

I could beat a steady pattern for long minutes

It made me smile - though nobody saw

I think I even laughed

How good it was to be allowed to move

Even though I had to wait until the house was empty 

To dance - to come alive 

Perhaps the computer key strokes are my new dance

The place where I am allowed to exist 

The space and movement that is mine alone

Words dance too I think

Secretly I bend and stretch, reconnect with my battered body

Like a chick emerging from an egg

The spirit of dancing, being free, cannot be amputated from my soul

Not like limbs - that really makes me smile.

Unspoken

https://newwhatsgoingon.blogspot.com/2026/02/the-unspoken.html

I wonder what else there is to say

If there is anything more than what is already written on my body

Marks without meaning 

Ink and scars alone 

I don’t mind that I don’t speak 

Because I have my secret writing life 

My world and connection with the world 

A place I want to protect 

My voice is soft but I do not need to raise it 

If people want to hear, they will 

These are the people who count 

The rest can be forgotten - 

That is what I have learnt from my many years of silence -

Less is infinitely more. 

Castle

https://dversepoets.com/2026/02/24/poetics-tuesday-beginnings-are-endings/

The cool breeze comes in the window

I realise, with a gentle start, that I am happy in my world

I take cups of tea from lounge to bedroom

Write in both with increasing ease 

Nonsense really but words are words 

They help untangle the tangle

Today I will head outside, see the buildings and the morning dog walkers 

(I am getting braver with dogs. And people)

I have been giving up wondering what I would rather have

Knowing that I can only have what I make - and what is available to me

But which can be moulded like sand to create my little castle 

I like my freedom, my way of doing things - observing and noting 

Quietly even smiling - I can do most things now 

And so - I write this sitting in the kitchen sink. 

Last line taken from - 

“I write this sitting in the kitchen sink.”

I Capture the Castle by Dodie Smith

Hunger

https://dversepoets.com/2026/02/23/q242-hunger-makes-the-best-of-poetry/

There has always been a hunger inside

I have filled it with - 

Music, toys, television 

Pain, blades, chemicals, pills 

All left inside and outside my body

Always deliberate - certain

Now I dine on syllables, words and stories -

The best diet I have ever chosen. 

Flamethrower

https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2026/02/friday-writings-215-flamethrower-at-end.html

I open the windows, let in the winter air

I like my toes to feel cool and free

My body snuggled in wool

Perhaps I am feeling more complete 

Building up my mind and body

Dropping a few defences which never served me well

I cradle my mug of tea in the early morning quiet

Still and dark before people wake up

Today I will walk and look up at the sky 

If only the path hadn’t been so bumpy 

But it is no good to dwell on that 

The path was the path - and all it could have been

As it is I am finding my sparkles and glows

Thinking - this is it, this is now - this is what I have

And it is like striking a match

Perhaps after all, there was light at the end of the tunnel

And silently and always -  it was a flamethrower.

Blessings

https://newwhatsgoingon.blogspot.com/2026/02/blessings.html

I should count my blessings - count them one by one

That’s what they made me sing

It will surprise you what the Lord has done

It had a nice rhythm 

The singing made me happy

Words foreign on my tongue

I always got them slightly wrong but tapped a foot regardless

Quite happily perhaps  

It was a little moment away

To spend amongst the penny candles 

And broken wishes

I wonder if anyone saw me

If now they wonder why

Really there is no journey from there to here

It is all a pattern - it flows and stalls 

Like a child’s breath making up the sounds and words

I am thankful that words still come 

That we have each other

That now I am warm and clean 

Safe and loved  

Sometimes I have to wipe away what has happened 

Like wiping the fog off the mirror

But when I do, when I look at myself - it really does surprise me what I have done. 

The Evolution Of Love

https://dversepoets.com/2026/02/17/poetics-the-evolution-of-love/

Until you found me (or I found you) I never believed I could love

But you blew on the tiny birthday-cake candle

That flicker of life that was still left in my bones - 

You gave me something which at first I could not recognise, let alone understand 

I like that as well as the darkness, we have giggled eating strawberries and cream by the river

That we danced with the lights on and brushed each other’s hair 

That we just spent time lying together in silence and feeling that was ok - necessary

All part of a process - an awakening - one which only I can complete  

I will always remember you and offer you my thanks

But inside I know that the lesson you taught me was how to love myself. 

 

Kiss

https://dversepoets.com/2026/02/16/prosery-toni-morrison/

The air outside the window is cold and crisp. It makes me catch my breath, like a small current of electricity. Waiting to awaken spirits and souls. There are memories. Moments captured in the glass but they come and go. Trouble one minute and then do no harm. Soon spring will come. There are daffodils already. Poking their way out of verges and patches of grass. A little dose of yellow. In the distance the fields are turning a deeper shade of green. The river rises and falls as well. The geese long since flown. The movement of the water is soothing, like a ticking clock. I hold my chin up. Let the air brush my skin. Perhaps there is a future after all. Something to find comfort in, to build upon. My body remembers how - but my lips forget what they have kissed. 

Love Poem

https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2026/02/friday-writings-214-love-love-glorious.html

I sit down at my window desk

Watching the branches bend and the leaves flutter like heart beats - your heart beats 

There is no garden in sight but the familiar concrete and bricks embraces me

They seem strong and stable 

Growing out of certain ground like a flower - 

Strong as thistles, soft as bluebells 

I lean into their touch

Now I have practised love I feel more equipped to love someone else again -

Someone real 

Love is not a resolution - it is about making choices

Some of these choices are made in error and excitement

As unwieldy to navigate like sitting in an upside down umbrella 

Riding down a mountain river - at which I laugh

Still, no looking back

There is enough love squashed inside my little soul-boat

It will propel me forward for a few more ripples and eddies to come

As long as I keep trying to love myself 

Creation

I am not sure I can stay awake when outside reality scares me

I hide behind Alice, hot chocolate in my hands

In my home - my safe place - one that I created for myself -

One that can’t let the bad people in

In my home I savour looking over words and pictures -

Whatever, whenever I try to turn away my fears by looking 

I sing and other people sing too

I smile and other people smile too 

I hope that in time I can move into the truth -

Occupy it with an eye-smile (blue and steady)

I feel this connection like a fire inside

Growing and hoping

Despite the pain and work to be done 

I feel reassured that you are always with me

I want you - 

After all I bought you into existence

Touch

https://dversepoets.com/2026/02/10/id-rather-go-blind/ 

I reach out for your hand

Try and place it in my palm -

I know that your touch is real

I feel it -inside me

Knock three times, and enter

That makes her giggle

Even in the dark, with my eyes scrunched up tight

I can sense you are with me

A little light - one which I will find as long as I continue to let it burn 

It is strange - how anyone else would not be allowed to touch me

My body is mine, my thoughts are mine

I harvest my survival treasures

They feel cool and smooth

I can feel them - perhaps I don’t need to see them 

They are tiny pebbles in my pocket

Just touching them - making them smooth makes me smile -

I can carry something no one else will see.    

PS I'm having trouble commenting on other's posts - I have been reading and enjoying the prompts 

Flowers

 https://dversepoets.com/2026/02/09/quadrille-241-swearing-by-all-flowers/

I hold up a buttercup underneath her chin

Do you like butter - She giggles  -

I trust our love 

I smell lavender wrapped in a cloth underneath my pillow

I hope there will always be flowers

Gentle, glowing, earth stars -

A daisy bed of home. 

  

 

Opposites

https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2026/02/friday-writings-213-pick-pair.html

I wiggle my fingers and toes, gentle movements

Which I thought I might not be able to do again

My flesh has been stolen (the thief was me)

But my spirit feels stronger

A flickering candle light always burning inside 

Which has no doubt carried me through my life 

Exactly as it does right now

I see the rowan tree, the owls and glowing moon 

Shining in the treacle-dark sky

Winter is fading and soon there will be brighter, longer days

As spring comes to us and offers us wishes and happiness -

Her face a bright yellow and white daisy 

Maybe if she comes to me again I can weave her a daisy chain 

I am beginning to make lists - tiny gambles

Learning to love things - simple things like the wind on my cheeks

Before I was largely full of indifference 

It didn’t matter if I lived or died

And so my fingers and toes tap a beat 

And I welcome it in and allow myself to smile.