her fairytales of life
no more Princes are there to be had,
and the knights in shining armour
perished with Arthur.
rather,
there’s just her,
an ordinary woman
riding her own steed
and slaying her own dragons.
long live the dragon slayer!
a cooking pot and twisted tales
Thoughts and Tales…A Lifestyle Blog with a Zing.
her fairytales of life
no more Princes are there to be had,
and the knights in shining armour
perished with Arthur.
rather,
there’s just her,
an ordinary woman
riding her own steed
and slaying her own dragons.
long live the dragon slayer!
without hope
where would we be…
buried under heaps
of rotting despair
without hope
what would we think…
that all is lost
and nothing is gained
with hope
where would we be…
searching for sunshine
and reasons to hold on
with hope
what would we think…
that after every dark night
there’s always rays of light
© Jacqueline
may there always be light at your end
I always thought that I was strange
till I became totally estranged
not knowing when things would change
or if one would become deranged
this is where I am truly me
yet I feared my space for many moons
caught in the mire of an arid desert that bogs us down
getting through each day of life like a clown
with many faces that smile and scares
with glinty tears, recurring fears and frozen scars
forgotten in the sirens of deaths mounting toll
and staying thankful to every lifesaving call
© Jacqueline
…life is never truly sunshine and butterflies
Wings I was given,
to fly I was taught,
yet,
hesitant I have been
to take that leap,
and
to spread those wings
lest they shrivel and die.
©
Jacqueline
I became one of those who disappeared…
diving into the belly of disjointed thoughts
malaise, discontent and limbo
I became one of those who disappeared
my voice broken and rusty
like an old unused tap on an abandoned site
I became one of those who disappeared
saving all my energy for survival
battling existential crisis
I became one of those who disappeared…
from out of the deep a voice called
head raised, I stare into the sun
it’s not yet over…
© Jacqueline 2019
Image credit – Pixabay
she turned
unwillingly against her will,
by the stroke of faith
and lottery played
by virtue of birth
she became
one of those diligent
bowed, sad women
who live on a long course
of docile, thankless servitude
she lived
in fear of showing,
saying or doing the wrong thing
her desires swallowed
dreams doused and denied
she smiled
pretending to have
no misgivings about life
but when you looked closely
silent desperation stood stark and pathetic
© 2019 Jacqueline
I know many women like this. Maybe you know one too. They are all around you. Maybe you used to be one of them.
I’ve fallen;
far too many times
than I can count,
that the only way
for me to fall again
is to rise up.
© 2018 Jacqueline
© 2019 Jacqueline
fruits of the vine
mature with age,
and so does sage.
wisdom, she lost,
buried in the deep cups
of the grapevine.
© Jacqueline 2019
Thank you Ronovan, I enjoyed this prompt.
These are
the number of kisses that we’ve had
the little dinners we have held
the evening walks on Tuesday’s end
the glorious sunsets around the bend
These are
the number of laughter we have shared
the times our silence has been paired
the million tiny tales we’ve told
the times you held me when I cried
These are
the moments we lived as we foretold
the times that slipped and went untold
the many nights our eyes went unslept
the promises made and yet unkept
These are…