#jenjenwrites

Swishing pleasantly

Stalks dancing like ocean waves

Earth and Air as one

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Prompt: Things that make you go 'Hmm...' - one of my experiences at my place of work. A lot of the people in the writers club are poets and although I love writing haiku's I'm definitely not a fan of constructing poems. But I've given it a go anyway.

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He comes to the counter with a smile that crawls Preparing his words that he believes will enthrall A regular customer that fills me with dread As he approaches all I can see is red

“Hello there sweetheart, you’ve got stars in your eyes. This here’s twelve pound but how about I give you five?” It’s a luxurious teapot, an unusual find He tells me there’s a chip but does he think that I’m blind?

Oh really? I desperately wish I could shout For I was the one who checked, priced and put out A decorative piece that deserves to shine In the hands of a customer I want to decline

“I’m afraid that I can’t discount it that low” It’s all for the charity so cough up the dough “I’ll chuck two pound off it just to be nice” He makes a face, disgusted at the price

I politely decline another offer Sometimes I wonder why I bother He shakes his head and returns to his bride Who mouths a ‘Sorry’ at their fallen pride

Prompt: Write a piece about someone you know inspired by an Anna Akhmatova poem.

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There are three things I love about you

Your ability to stay on the phone with a difficult receptionist

How you always dress like an assassin on their way to seduce the hero but you're a manager of a restaurant.

And despite all the hard times we've been through, you've been our rock

What I don't like is you banging on my door at half one in the morning

Clutching your pillow in fear

In a panic I get up and awkwardly pull pyjama's on

I run down the stairs, forgetting to ask what was wrong in the first place

You follow sheepishly and say: "I thought I heard a mouse. Can you check?"

The gentle journey

Falling from green to scarlet

A flight of nightfall

Upon the shoulders of Death

Made from clay and hate

Destined to release darkness

A light burns softly

~~~~~

Blushing sinful red

My body is your canvas Bruises bloom sweetly

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*Originally written for a short story competition*

Have you heard about the one with the three bears? Or the witch with the candy house? Or the girl in red skipping through the woods? I first heard these tales from the comfort of my grandmothers bed at five years old, my little sister beside me our hands intertwined.

We watched with wide eyes filled with glittering stars as our gran wove words of magic, creating a pathway to our favourite fairy tales. Snuggled down, dreams brimming with porridge thieves and candy floss skies I floated into a slumber on my grannies soft lullaby. She chased away the nightmares.

Storytelling runs in the family. My dad would tuck us in at night and we’d beg for a bedtime story and he’d plagiarize my grans words but would make Golidlocks tumble down the stairs or jump out the window. One time red riding hood killed the wolf with a shotgun.

I’ve travelled through so many worlds from the warmth and safety of my bed. It started with fables and then We’re Going on a Bear Hunt and Six Dinners Sid, then Charlotte’s Web and A Series of Unfortunate Events, then Twilight and now I devour adult novels from the library.

I prepare a large mug of tea with a squelch of honey and pick snacks that I’ll regret cleaning the crumbs up later. The duvet fresh, clean sheets of an enchanted autumn forest and a video in the background playing the sounds of trees swaying and a river rolling calmly.