Free Verse, Poetry by Sarah

Stop A While

Image credit Eden Hills

My wings stretched out
I soar the open skies
The wind beneath my feathers
And carrying my cries

I squawk to my friend
Signalling stop for a while
I land upon a fence line
And listen with a smile

I hear the breeze rustling
The long grass at my side
The crickets they are chirruping
I hear them far and wide

The metal on the fence post
Makes a lightly scratching sound
Faintly echoes the howl
Of some far off mournful hound

Beside me runs a river
Though slow, the water flows
There’s the sensual slosh of liquid
As over the rocks it goes

Out of the corner of my eye
I see a snake slither and hiss
Time to go, lest he makes me his meal
I take off; blow a farewell kiss

Beep beep beep beep
I awake in confusion
It’s just my alarm clock
Shattering the illusion

By Sarah ©2017

Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Saturday’s Mix – 24 June 2017 and Daily Post Daily Prompt, Word: illusion 

Free Verse, Poetry by Sarah


My parents are not generous, with money or affection. 

Telling me I have to find my way; my own direction.

But insisting nonetheless, on absolute perfection.

For me, this was akin to the ultimate rejection.

 So instead I found love, in a needle and injection.

Addiction fuelled, my body now coursed with infection.

Eventually finding myself in a state of abjection.

An overdose; the verdict of my meagre dissection.

Finally, my parents now seeking a connection.

Have honoured me in death with an ostentatious erection.

That is found taking up most of the cemetery’s east section.

It would seem upon more scrutinous inspection 

My parents are not generous, with money or affection. 

Until it is 



By Sarah ©2017

Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, First Line Friday – June 23rd 2017

Free Verse, Poetry by Sarah, Scribblings by Sarah

The Muse

One bite of your neck, was more than I deserved; my muse.

You were so open, with words so smooth; my muse.

You eased the tension from my body, like it were a playhouse; my muse.

Even Neptune himself, could not have been treated any more a king; my muse.

Your semaphorism* a constant tease, a hook, a drug; my muse.

A paradoxical stalemate of wanting, but never having you; my muse.

But in reality, you are a thief; my muse.

I have been stolen, and am lost in you.

By Sarah ©2017

Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie – Wordle #159

1. Bite
2. Smooth
3. Open
4. Deserve
5. Paradox
6. Semaphorism (n.)) a conversational hint that you have something personal to say on the subject but don’t go any further—an emphatic nod, a half-told anecdote, an enigmatic ‘I know the feeling’—which you place into conversations like those little flags that warn diggers of something buried underground: maybe a cable that secretly powers your house, maybe a fiberoptic link to some foreign country.)
7. Tension
8. Playhouse
9. Neptune
10. Stalemate
11. Muse
12. Thieves
Use at least 10 of the words to create a story or poem

Free Verse, Photos by Sarah, Poetry by Sarah


Stretched out cotton balls

shroud the valleys in a thick blanket of white

mountain tops peek through, standing tall

imaginary fingers drag their way along the clouds creating lines and layers

slowly plucking away the wisps

until each strand has gone

to reveal the city below.

By Sarah ©2017

Prompt: Daily Post Daily Prompt, Word: imaginary 

Free Verse, Poetry by Sarah

Feral Fox

Cracking open a red wine
We’ve had cellared for a while.
Remembering our trip to D’areys,
Made me stop and a smile.

We tasted and we swished
The red liquid round and round.
Until we had decided,
The best wines to be found

Many purchases were made that day.
They’ve lasted quite some years.
There’s nothing better in winter,
Than wine (it sure beats beers!)

So as I pour my portion,
And swill it in my glass.
I think 8.4 standard drinks,
Is actually a farce.

The way I pour my red wine,
Is more generous than some.
I will probably be a ‘feral fox’
By the time this bottle’s done.

By Sarah ©2017

Prompt: Daily Post Daily Prompt, Word: portion

Free Verse, Poetry by Sarah

The Sacrifice 

the redhead was struck

blackened and withered

she falls away from my hand

no matter

her job is done

I watch intently


as the flicker becomes a flame

the radiant glow of her sacrifice.

By Sarah ©2017

Image courtesy of Paul at

Author’s Note: Redheads is an iconic Australian brand of matches originally manufactured in Richmond, Victoria by Bryant and May but now manufactured in Sweden by Swedish Match. It is the top-selling brand in the country.

Prompt: Daily Post Daily Prompt, Word: radiate

Free Verse, Poetry by Sarah, Scribblings by Sarah

I am not nothing

I am not nothing.
I know you see me,
Even though you stare blankly
through the places I be.

I am not nothing.
I see the flicker in your eye,
A glimpse, a recognition
– your sister, a tie.

I am not nothing.
I’m not an aberration.
Not an evil monster,
You invented that creation.

I am not nothing.
All the wrongs against you,
are deeds to be halved,
your own version of true.

I am not nothing.
You need to share blame.
We both made mistakes,
played a terrible game.

I am not nothing.
Not invisible, not worthless,
And who the fuck made you,
so pious and righteous?

I am not nothing.
It cuts to the core,
It still hurts like hell
it’s me alone, you ignore.

I am not nothing.
There’s no end in sight,
I’ve tried for so long now
to make things right.

I am not nothing.
I want to move on,
To harbour this grudge
Eight years is too long.

I am not nothing.
It’s time to say ‘bye,
Because though you’re my brother
you don’t even try.

I am not nothing.
What you don’t see
Is that to someone who matters,
Their everything is me.

By Sarah ©2017

Image by Karen Shaw at

 Author note: This poem is based on my estranged brother. From time to time we have to deal with one another at family events etc and he pretends I don’t exist. This poem attempts to deal with some of the feelings that arise when being treated like this by someone you used to be close to. Obviously there are two sides to the story. This is mine.
Free Verse, Poetry by Sarah

True colours

Sometimes I am blue.

An ocean; endless and heavy.

But then a wave washes me back to shore

and I become yellow.

Sunny and warm; sand under my feet.

Until I step on a rock. And then I see red.

Angry, slashing, shades of red.

Like a bruise, I eventually heal

in colours of magenta, purple, orange.

And always, in the end, the grass grows green and long,

covering the rock and the sand and the ocean.

True colours ever changing the landscape of my brain.

Except for the black.

The black is always there.

Threatening to peek through.

By Sarah ©2017



Image by: Kyla @ Deviantart

Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie,  Photo Challenge #165

Free Verse, Poetry by Sarah

The Person in the Mirror ~ Despair

 The Task ‘Well, it is rather simple. #PersonifyME is about personifying an emotion in your mind. If it was a person, what would it look like. The aim here is to visualise a difficult emotion you’ve been struggling with recently and pour that onto a page in pretty much anyway you like. We want to see what your anxiety, depression, happiness, creativity and all these other things look like.’ Source:

Below is my #PersonifyME about despair. Although written a few years ago, this poem fits the brief and feels like it’s been waiting for this opportunity to be voiced…

Who is this person in the mirror that I see?
Surely, that person, cannot be me?
With a tightness to her mouth that was never there before,
A smile barely gracing her lips anymore.
Eyes that do not twinkle or shine with delight,
Instead marked with sorrow at the loss of tiny life.
Sagging shoulders tell of lost faith in all things good,
When bad things happen to those it never should.
The sense of failure and loneliness running deep within,
Cannot be covered up by make-up upon her skin.
Her footsteps falling heavily, she no longer walks light.
Her dreams but a distant memory of only ‘what might’.
New creases and wrinkles have been etched upon her skin,
As a souvenir of the journey, of grief that she is in.
A future being unravelled that was never her chosen path,
Others moved on – her alone in the aftermath.
Bitterness and resentment is the taste left in her mouth,
Anger and jealousy the only words she wants to spout
Each day she wears a mask so that noone sees her pain,
But in her heart she knows she will never be the same.
Thoughts of hope so hard to grasp, no matter how she tries
Happiness so far away, it seems only a lie.
Dark smudges show she’s tired. Resigned to this new fate.
I don’t want to be this person, but I fear that it’s too late.

By Sarah ©2012

#PersonifyME @ Mindfump

Free Verse, Poetry by Sarah, Scribblings by Sarah


Pile upon pile of shit.

It just keeps coming.

I must not be as smart as I need to be.

Unable to shed myself of the mish mash

The wedge between me and the others.

Scrawny in my sense of self,

The primitive me seeks to live vicariously.

You may be wont to disagree

But I think the Pâro*

Has got the better of me.

By Sarah 2017©

* Pâro ((n.) the feeling that no matter what you do is always somehow wrong—that any attempt to make your way comfortably through the world will only end up crossing some invisible taboo—as if there’s some obvious way forward that everybody else can see but you, each of them leaning back in their chair and calling out helpfully, colder, colder, colder.)

Wordle Challenge #154

Words used: pile, smart, pâro, vicarious, mash, disagree, shed, primitive, wedge, scrawny 

Free Verse, Poetry by Sarah

Keep Your Eye On The Sea

When walking along the beach

Don’t get lost in a reverie

Take it from my experience

And keep your eye on the sea!


Don’t ponder things big and small

Or how beautiful life be

Trust me friend, listen when I say

Keep your eye on the sea!


The ocean’s ever creeping

As sneaky as can be,

So please! Believe me!

Keep your eye on the sea!


That wave may look quite harmless

And far away it may be

But don’t risk it! Don’t get too close!

Keep your eye on the sea!


Because just when you think you’re safe

Thinking, ‘Ha! It won’t get me’

Bam! It’s gone and drenched you!

That bloody bugger, the sea!


So if you value your runners

Or some other expensive accessory

Do yourself a favour,



By 2013 Sarah