Poetry - Lynn White

  Mouse Super Cutie wood-mouse lived by the garden pond. A small hole gap in the wall led into compact accommodation affording everything he wanted   though very different   from his childhood home in the high wall   at the very top   of the garden. There he had learned the skills he would need as an adult, especially that a couple of squeaks brought forth food, real food, bread and cereal, even cake on a birthday. So he was not tempted to try the potentially gut wrenching daffodil bulbs favoured by his wild and unruly cousins. He never found love though, the wild ones got the girls! So, smart and steady he lived solo and then one day was   gone. https://cactifur.com/2024/04/17/lynn-white-mouse/?fbclid=IwZXh0bgNhZW0CMTEAAR1S_4LgB0lYQ4vBLg0rXIph_mk6tnC991XxzRXZJhBrb_HGKE8MXvQO_uU_aem_AS1oOGxmgckkOMexVJVqdiUcCYmwaESR3sW3UKpBXs3HFrw0znnxdhCAi34fU-_hfDLep7QgwM-7KcBOI6OTP6On

    Through the Glass Alice saw herself in her looking glass and walked through into a topsy turvy world where everything was back to front and inside out. She drifted into a dreamscape of madness and unreality,   without breaking the glass. Uncut by the shards of her mirror   or the place she entered into. She had only to wake to make   things the right way round again. But walking through a clear glass, a transparent window, it would have been different. Her reflection would float   towards a place where everything   seemed the right way round. Where everything made sense and added up sweet with reason. A place without madness, which looked easy to enter and had no sharp edges. Apparently. But this glass forms an invisible barrier to the other side and the life that seduces and entices her. And to get through she has to break the glass, whose sharp edges cut her and propel her crazily into a place where she cannot wake. A jagged, topsy turvy place   where everything spins round wildl

  The Shattered Glass The glass has been shattered. Safely shattered, with no sharp shards. With no damage to anyone, seemingly. But someone is missing. Only her absence is revealed in the shattered glass. Perhaps she is broken, shattered   like the glass, but not safely. If only the shattered glass could reveal her presence. If only the cracks would heal. https://www.theravensquoth.press/shards/

  One Last Time Before the trees begin to fall I’ll take a walk through the woods one last time, hear the leaves glistening and shaking in fear of what is to come some are already fallen lying dying, it’s the season for it after all. I’ll see the light shining   lighting on the leaves of grass that push soft spikes of green life   in between the fallen see the light shining   through the trees one last time. It lights up the white crosses chalked on the trunks as it passes by too many white crosses   all ready to mark the graves of the fallen. It’s the season for it after all, always the season for it one more time. https://edgeofhumanity.com/2024/04/15/one-last-time/

  Homeward Bound I’ve been ticking off the days until my home coming day   when I’ll step back into my dream and be home. And today I’m back though I know that I was never here before that I was only dreaming but I can feel home tugging at me drawing me   along the familiar path through the woods, pulling me inside surrounding me   in the sweetness of heart and hearth. It’s the day I’ve been dreaming for but it’s gone. https://masticadoresusa.wordpress.com/2024/04/14/homeward-bound-by-lynn-white/

  Dear Juliet Listen to a father’s foreboding it’s a difficult time   when you’re half grown. No longer a child, but not yet an adult. Half grown with fully formed temptations, and such contempt for adults, fathers especially, you always know best but listen, the forbidden fruit of first love is poisonous   not for tasting and when the feuds of the fathers meet the dreams of the fathered there are no happy endings. You always knew best until you didn’t. So listen and heed a father’s foreboding. https://hereticsloversmadmen.com/2024/04/13/dear-juliet-lynn-white/