Wednesday, 22 July 2015

Old Lovers

Hello There

Kate here
Hope everyone is well and safe

Old Lovers

This poem is about an old couple I saw walking in the local park.
They were arm in arm and glad to be out in the sunshine after a few dismal grey days.

Hope you enjoy it

Kate :0)

Old Lovers

Old Lovers, sit together

On a shaded park bench

Going over their memories

Of days and people gone by

Walking together – linking arms

To keep each other steady

Singing snatches of old tunes -

‘Who sang that one dear?’

Matching china cups at home

A present for their anniversary

Filled with steaming tea

Surrounded by photos of how they used to be

Her slim and shy,

Him a protective bear

They look at each other now across

The Irish linen tablecloth

And for a moment,

Their eyes sparkle as they share

A memory without words

Of a time, now long ago

When the Sun stayed for longer

The wine tasted sweeter

And nights were hotter than molten gold

‘Nother cup of tea Dear?’ she says

© Kate McClelland 2015

Sunday, 12 July 2015

'Nightmares' and 'It's Night Time'

Hello There

Kate here again.
Hope you have all been safe and well and enjoying a bit if sunshine.
Thank you very much for the Re-blogs, RTs & Likes on my blogs and on Twitter.
Very kind of you all to take the time to read and comment. It is very much appreciated.



I thought I would post two very different poems today. Both have ‘night’ as their theme, but separate ends of the spectrum.
'Nightmares' – I used to suffer from nightmares a lot when I was younger. A  vivid imagination plus a scary book not a good conbination!
'It’s Night time' – I love the garden at dusk – so peaceful and calm. Walking barefoot across cool green grass and standing under the trees, listening to the sounds of night – so soothing.

The withered old crone
All in raggedy black, cackling
Sits on top of my window seat
A grimacing monochrome harlequin
Pulling at my bed clothes

A disembodied hand at my feet
Claws its way to my pillow
A wraith all in white
Hides against an inky shadow
They seem to move together
A stilted ‘Danse Macabre’

A scratching sound under my bed
Clawing at the bedstead
The flame orange eyes
Of an owl pierce through
The night window, looking for prey

A half glimpse of a tar-black imp
In the dark corner of the room
Nightmares ride against me
Through the black long hours of dark
Like the ebony horse of Fear himself

Until I’m wrung through with sweat
And wracked with the pain of constant fright
Wishing for the dawn
To be saved by the golden daylight

Fearing that nothing will save me
But hoping, still hoping
It will all go away at the lance-like
Piercing golden flame of day

It’s Night Time

It’s night time
Telly is boring
So I slip off my slippers
And go out into my garden

I stand under the shelter
Of the Elderflower tree
I close my eyes
And feel my feet
Sink into the grass
Melding me with my surroundings

It starts to lightly rain
The sound of the raindrops
Hypnotically and rhythmically
Fall around me
The slight rustle and shiver
Of the shawl of leaves I wear
Are a soothing balm
To my fire cracker nerves

Calmness falling as rain
Cool & soothing rhythms
Syncopate their way through
My skull easing my mind

A balm to my soul
A mini Eden in a city metropolis
© Kate McClelland 2015


Monday, 6 July 2015

'Migraine' and 'A Bubble in Time'

Hello There

Kate here again.
Hope you have all been safe and well.

Thanks very much for the Re-blogs, RTs & Likes on my blogs and on Twitter. Also very grateful for the lovely comments you have left for me.
They are very much welcomed and appreciated.


I don't know whether you suffer migraines like I do, but I wrote a poem about one I had this weekend which was my first in quite sometime  (I'm blaming overexposure of my cranium to the sun the day before).
My sympathies to anyone who suffers from chronic migraines.
I know it seems odd to write a poem about it, but writing it helped me block some of it out.
If you don't have them yourself, it might give you a little idea of how bad they can be. It's not a 'headache' it's an electrical brain explosion which effects your eyesight, concentration and balance.

The poem is called 'Migraine' (I know - stretched myself to come up with that title!)

To counterbalance this, I have also posted a poem called 'A Bubble in Time'

I hope you like them

Best wishes
Kate x


I lie in the blacked-out room

Cold, wet flannel draped across my forehead

Bucket strategically placed on one side of the bed

Glass of water on the window ledge at my head

Medicated to just above the ‘recommended daily limit’

Even now in this darkened abyss

In my mind’s eye and striking every optical nerve

Like a mad, jester harpist

Jagged multi-coloured neon lights

Flash eye-wateringly sharp

Against the black - like broken shards of glass

Searing through my frontal cortex

Piercing the comfortable darkness

Like a knife in the eye

I can’t bear the daylight

I can’t stand up as it feels like

I’m on board a heaving sea vessel

Lurching, equilibrium smashed against the rocks of pain

I can’t read my beloved books

As the words swim like little black tadpoles

In and out of focus

Quivering like a bad 1950’s ‘flashback’ special effect

The sharp pain makes me wince

An invisible vice has my skull crushed in its grip

Until it feels like I am actually upside down

My cranium being pounded by ‘brain lightening’

Waves of nausea and vertigo roll across my body

Stomach feels like I’ve eaten a kilo of cottage cheese

Bloated and still churning in its acid bath

Ready to burst forth lava-like from my protesting innards

As the bile rises and falls with each episode
Migraine – I hate you 

A Bubble in Time

If I could make a bubble in time

I’d take us both inside

Where we’d be safe

From prying eyes

And everyday life

Like twinned stars in the Universe

Dancing a waltz or two

To the sound of a musical box band

An enduring ‘par de deux’

And see the stars as they were

A billion years ago

Within this bubble all alone

The ‘Wheel of Ages’ would rest

And eternally we would be

Drifting in our shiny bubble

Floating in timeless primordial space

© Kate McClelland 2015

Kate McClelland