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Laura Hassell Poem
Stolen glances of my past
At the bottom of an hourglass.
Copyright © Laura Hassell | Year Posted 2013
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Laura Hassell Poem
Dreams like shadows upon the
water
Water holds secrets beneath
it's murky flesh
Our marriage held an
unspoken lie
You were a saviour
Yet temperamental as the wind
I could not hold you down
It was the watering hole that
we met
Water weathers the rocks
Life weathered our love
The pond you built was not
enough
For my cold feet
I felt you trying
Yet I felt you drifting
Gently as a thistle on the wind
You left me here.
It is true what they say
You left a watermark upon my
heart.
Copyright © Laura Hassell | Year Posted 2011
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Laura Hassell Poem
Stones are carved
Shaped into endless hills upon hills
The narrow pathways divide and
Wind like veins
Emptied of blood
There are no trees
No life that springs from happy soils
Except memories clung desperately to loved ones
Else they are forgotten
Who are we but our memories?
Without them we are a nameless grave
We will all end here.
Copyright © Laura Hassell | Year Posted 2011
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Laura Hassell Poem
Across the cold black pebbles of shoreline
An ocean glistens like a field of diamonds
Under a pale and waning moon
Thick oily waves wrap their greedy arms around a girl in a flimsy
White dress
Pulling her down into the ice cold water
Filling her mouth with the bitter taste of salt.
The bubbling ancient tide pulls her hungrily
Into the depths of a lonely black sea.
When the fiery light of morning sun begins
To peek over the horizon
A lone man spies a white movement
Carried mercilessly along the surface of the water
Upon the rocky hill from which he stood
It's wise precipice jutting over the fierce ocean
Probing for it's secrets.
His heart lurched, for he saw it was a body in a white nightgown,
Tangles of black hair swimming around her head in a solitary dance.
Copyright © Laura Hassell | Year Posted 2011
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Laura Hassell Poem
God's patterned quilt woven
tight
Upon the circled earth
A kaleidoscopic jewelled kite
Our sadness and our mirth.
Summer's scorching pulsing
heart
Beats relentlessly on the
ground
Where children's laughs in billy
carts
Are heard o'er the mound.
Yellow, red and orange sprinkle
When autumn takes its hold
Blushing rubies playfully tinkle
As they fall into the cold.
Heavy, white blanket - drowsy,
tired
Claims it's bed o'er the world
Bare trees are no more admired
And the bears are tightly
curled.
When hope at last, opens it's
eyes
Bright daffodils lift their chins
The baby bird successfully flies
And the beauty of life begins.
Laura Hassell
Copyright © Laura Hassell | Year Posted 2013
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Laura Hassell Poem
I fear my memories have become
lost.
The summer of my days
Slowly fades like the falling leaves
of autumn.
Now hidden under a cold winters
cloak.
Fractured memories
Breaks stronger with the passage of
time.
The mirror of my life
dances a delicate map in my
reflection.
Oh would that I could hold on to
those dreams!
Each passing day slowly clutches
them into darkness.
The greedy hand clasps who I was
Knuckle white
Offering no mercy
Or kindness.
I am but a shard of mirror now.
Copyright © Laura Hassell | Year Posted 2013
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Laura Hassell Poem
A solitary woman holds a small
urn jug
Her gentle hand clasped to her
breast
Shy eyelashes caress her pale
stone cheeks.
Standing for centuries before
us...
Guarding the cobblestone way.
How many eyes have set
themselves upon this fair lady?
Decay and corruption have not
yet possessed you.
O gentle woman who guards
the fountain at her feet.
Quiet, still, at peace.
You conceal the stories of man
in your heart.
I am a mere mortal to come
worship at your feet.
Copyright © Laura Hassell | Year Posted 2012
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Laura Hassell Poem
Work
The four letter word
A wheel that turns and turns
Round and round
Living our lives for the dollar
signs
Hardly home
Late nights
Dark when you get up
Dark when you lay down
Your home is not a home
It's a house
An empty shell of a house
Rushing to say goodnight to
your partner - again
A robotic relationship
'Night Hun'
The only two words spoken to
each other
You were hidden underneath
your Everest books
Or your iphone
Or Your iPad
Or whatever 'i' technology you
have.
It's all about the i. Not we.
I've forgotten what life is
about.
Then I remember the four letter
word
Work
Copyright © Laura Hassell | Year Posted 2013
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