Writing

Pink Carnations

Not a single call, note or text
Just a missing set of keys
Gone at a quarter past 12
When you thought I wouldn’t see

It became a frequent occurrence
For you to disappear,
Vanish without a goodbye
Into the cold night air

Where would you go,
To the shop, or the pub? And then
I realised you were cheating, darling
You just couldn’t cover it up

Around 5 you’d come back
Believing I was asleep
Slinking under the covers
Before the alarm started to beep

It was driving me insane
The daily distance in your eyes
Love gone, and purely absent
Replaced with tired, empty sighs

You thought you were clever
But I found out her name
If only you were smarter
Honey, you’re not, what a shame

Now the wondering is gone
And I can sleep without pretending
I feel relief now, my love
The constant stress finally ending

It’s much better now that
I always know your location
Since I buried you next to her
Right underneath our pink carnations

From: Creative Writing

Entertainment, Film, Life Experience

Something Blue

The new Cinderella is finally out in the UK and its reception has been magnificent. I have yet to see it, but I’m raring to go, got a sweet spot for Disney Princesses, y’know.

There’s been one thing though, that’s been bugging me until now. Cinderella’s astounding new dress has looked awfully familiar to me and I just haven’t been able to place it. That’s when I spotted a child’s version of the dress on sale in Sainsburys covered in butterflies and flowers and it hit me: Songbird Barbie.

  

Don’t they look similar?? Takes me right back to being a little five or six year old. Oh, nostalgia.

Misc.

Daffodils

The sun comes pouring through the window after endless months of hibernation, the wood of the window frame creaking under the warmth. The glass heats up and becomes a sheet of transparent energy as the light glares through, bathing the room in a sumptuous glow of gold. Daffodils, yesterday just green papery buds, today blooming folds of yellow and orange. Gracefully, they dance open and smile at the sunshine, grateful for the heat and the power of the golden ball consuming the sky. Resting amid a tropical blue sky, it cleanses the soul of the emerald earth with its heavenly radiance, bright and shimmering, bringing life along with it. The daffodils sigh as they bathe in the glory of the sun, stretching out to its streaming rays, relishing in the long lost light.

Decorative vases of daffodils