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miel's (miel on UKA) UKArchive
23 Archived submissions found.
Title
The Yoga Teacher (posted on: 02-03-15)
The tale of an ambitious young man who lost everything...

Lying on the sea sands, He recalled the soft voice Of his yoga teacher. Inhale - slowly exhale, Your stress will dissipate. A few hours later, He found himself lying In the very same spot, Calmer, but still disturbed. His life was a nightmare! A pile of mounting debts, Creditors at his door, A suspicious landlord, Waiting to displace him, His life couldn't get worse! Then, thinking about her, He stood upright, shaking Off the sand, that had stuck On his fancy T-shirt, With luck she'd take him in! The teacher who loved him, When he had set his heart On wooing another, With much greater pizzazz. He'd seek a second chance!
Archived comments for The Yoga Teacher

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The Caged (posted on: 23-08-13)
This poem depicts the fate of so many women across the world ....

They told her she would be on plush, Being married to such a rich guy. But what they really did not know, Was that she was quite unhappy. Sitting in her designer bedroom, Surrounded by fancy paintings, Period furniture and jewels, A tear drop slipped down unnoticed. She had everything, yet nothing. One of life's serious dilemmas, She was not allowed to go out, Meet friends or even entertain. She was not to be influenced By the outside world pollutants, People who'd plant wrong ideas And confuse her innocent mind. In the beginning, she had thought That it was real concern for her. But she soon learned the true reason- Her spouse was very possessive. He would not even tolerate, Her speaking to the gardener. All she was doing was learning, More about seasonal flowers. His constant refrain in the home - She had all that a woman needs, A well- heeled good-looking husband And all the material comforts. In tears, she sadly retorted - "What is the use of all your wealth I, in splendid isolation, Am confined to your golden cage!"
Archived comments for The Caged
ValDohren on 25-08-2013
The Caged
A sad story, eloquently told. Enjoyed reading.
Val

Author's Reply:

Nemo on 25-08-2013
The Caged
A centuries old story, told in moving terms.

Author's Reply:

Bozzz on 25-08-2013
The Caged
This is a cliche that carries truth, but sadly it is difficult to write about with enthusiasm. A trap for the unwary - good try though..... Bozzz

Author's Reply:


I remember (posted on: 26-04-13)
An old widower recounts his story....

It is true you have gone. I recall, I scattered Handfuls of white petals On your teak wood coffin, To the strains of the hymn Nearer my God to Thee. Then mechanically, I threw mud on your grave. My final goodbye said, I walked home in silence. I braced myself, to face A life of loneliness, Suppressing unshed tears, Setting aside my fears, I changed gears and moved Into the slower lane, Quite unobtrusively. But, last month you came back. I saw your silhouette, Flit across the bedroom. I reached out to touch you, I was sure my fingers, Felt the silk of your gown, As you slipped away fast. This was no dream I'm sure. You even answered me, "Coming dear" when I spoke. But, when I told neighbours, They looked at me strangely And then nodded wisely. Now, unfortunately I am living alone, Although I'm surrounded By unknown old people, Euphemistically Called assisted living. Tell me love, did I err Telling them, about how I saw your silhouette Sail across the bedroom?
Archived comments for I remember
amman on 27-04-2013
I remember
Very sad and full of meaning. Well constructed.
Regards.

Author's Reply:
Thank you Amman for your very generous comment.

Witchysmyth on 27-04-2013
I remember
Extremely touching and haunting piece (no pun intended). A fav read for me.

Author's Reply:
Dear Witchysmyth, thank you so much for selecting my poem. I am elated.warm regards SM

Bozzz on 28-04-2013
I remember
I am sure you have touched many raw nerves - it is just what I fear most. Beautifully written...Bozzz

Author's Reply:
Thanks Bozz, glad you liked my poem and thanks for rating it so high too - SM

Savvi on 29-04-2013
I remember
switching gears into the slow lane and the walk home in silence, dropped my heart by a beat, A well crafted and very sad poem, great job. S

Author's Reply:
Thanks so much Savvi for your lovely comment and for the top rating too. Kind regards - SM


Dreams (posted on: 19-04-13)
Feelings of despair and devastation put into words... This poem was inspired by a picture..

All my dreams were washed away By the cruel tides of fate? Like a tsunami they came To devour them completely. Now I sit on the ruined shores Assessing the vast debris, Devoid of any feelings Will I ever dream again?
Archived comments for Dreams
teifii on 20-04-2013
Dreams
I hope so. Not to do so would indeed be a cruel fate.

Author's Reply:

ValDohren on 20-04-2013
Dreams
That's the problem with dreams, they are all too easily blown away. But we can construct new ones, and sometimes they do come true. Nice write, well expressed.

Val



Author's Reply:


The Poet's Wife (posted on: 12-04-13)
The story of a recluse poet and his lonely wife

There's a sense of melancholy, In every verse he composes. She reads them in studied silence, Then files them away carefully, In neat folders stored in her brain. They help her cope with loneliness. He lives the life of a hermit, Hidden away in distant hills. His only communication, The verses that he writes to her. Living alone is his own choice, She wishes he would change his mind. She, being far more sociable, Finds separation difficult. His poetry helps, but does not Compensate for his long absence. She needs a shoulder to cry on, A hand to hold -someone to love...
Archived comments for The Poet's Wife
Fox-Cragg on 12-04-2013
The Poets Wife
You have captured something very true to me here. I cannot write with noise or disturbance and that includes my dear wife. I write nearly 100% on my own, and yes, lonely.
Love the poem and reflects well on sacrifices for creativity on both.
Thank you for sharing.
Paul

Author's Reply:
Thanks Paul for your kind comment..
Cheers
SM

stormwolf on 12-04-2013
The Poets Wife
What lovely poems I am reading today. There really is a high standard here. This poem is put over in simple terms which to me highlight the simple theme of the poem where the situation is one of mssing her loved one and he does too, in his own self imposed isolation.
The 'distant hills' bit made me think of the Indian hills I have only seen in photos but which are very beautiful. All in all a lovely poem.

Alison x

Author's Reply:
Thanks Alison, you made my day... Thanks also for the rating - I am over the moon!
Warm regards
SM

ValDohren on 13-04-2013
The Poets Wife
Lovely poem, reflecting much truth - I am sure it is the case for many poets, that we need space and isolation to concentrate. Well penned.

Val

Author's Reply:

Bozzz on 13-04-2013
The Poets Wife
I suppose the best poetry arrives this way. I work in the opposite direction i.e., chat-write-chat-write which difference must account for the different sort of subject matter we choose - and more perhaps ! Good interesting poem

Author's Reply:

Mikeverdi on 13-04-2013
The Poets Wife
Some interesting thoughts brought up by you excellent writing. We all need our own space; it's how much that makes the difference and defines us maybe. Mike

Author's Reply:
Thanks so much Mike.. For your astute comment - yes I too prefer to write when I am alone...
Cheers SM

Pronto on 14-04-2013
The Poets Wife
Thank you dear poet,
You have pointed out to me in a beautiful, non critical way just what a selfish bastard I am. You see although I'm not that poet yet I'm fast becoming him.

I shall buck my ideas up and pay my dear wife more attention.
Luv & hugz,
P

Author's Reply:


Death by Chocolate (posted on: 08-03-13)
On a trip to Gruyere on the Chocolate Train

It was to be the highlight Of my trip to the Swiss Alps, Riding the chocolate train, To Gruyere to sample, Those delectable truffles. Dark mouth watering delights, That do propel one straight up To the heavenly realms of Gastronomic ecstasy. It was chilly on the train. My teeth were chattering and My gloved fingers were frozen. But riding through the mountains, Within snow's touching distance Was a wonderful feeling For me, coming from hot climes. I pulled my muffler, tighter Around my neck to stay warm. Moments later, the flavour Of hot chocolate thrilled us. We were all, soon treated to A mug of the brown delight! Sipping it raised my spirits And helped to warm my fingers. My cocoa experience Had begun and continued Right through the Gruyere trip. Trays and trays of dark truffles, Rolled down the conveyor belt. The sight was tantalising. I meant to taste all the kinds Of chocolate on display..... But finally realised There were only that many, One could eat without risking, A dark DEATH BY CHOCOLATE!
Archived comments for Death by Chocolate
Fox-Cragg on 08-03-2013
Death by Chocolate
Cold and sweet, nice read.

Author's Reply:

Savvi on 08-03-2013
Death by Chocolate
swisss chocolate has too much cocoa for me I get an instant head ache, but this was soothed by your swiss alps train ride. nice touch. S

Author's Reply:

franciman on 08-03-2013
Death by Chocolate
Love it and love chocolate!
For me it was too long. I was caught up in the Lonely planet feel of this piece, and so felt cheated by its descent into pantomime at the end. Imho it would be wonderful and atmospheric if channeled in a single direction.
I did like it though; but I might grow to love it if you followed through on the original direction?
cheers,
Jim

Author's Reply:


The Politician (posted on: 15-02-13)
A tale on the political fraternity...

His neat sanctimonious look, Generally appealed to all. His polite and respectful smile, Endeared him to the innocent As a hard boiled politician, He knew exactly what to do. How to impress and whom to please, His obsequiousness a disease. Insincerity and lying, Seemed deep-rooted in his system. Yet so many gullible souls, Believed in him implicitly. But soon divine intervention, Put an end to his pretensions. At an outdoor public event, A crow blessed him generously. The so-called patient, polite man Broke into a foul rant, that did Embarrass his close coterie, Leaving party-workers red-faced. Now, with his cover fully blown, The outer shell of refinement, Crumbled quickly and everyone Saw him for what he was - a con...
Archived comments for The Politician

No comments archives found!
Alzheimer's (posted on: 15-02-13)
On Valentine's Day - remembering those suffering from that dreaded illness - Alzheimer's

She fights with demons daily, The ones that clutter her mind. In a state of confusion, On a permanent basis, For normality she pines. None can understand her fears, Her involuntary tears, The once gentle lady now Brings shudders to all who visit. Foul language flows off her tongue, It's as if she's someone else, A strange person no one knows. In her younger days she was Politeness personified. Has she had a brain transplant? Asks her youngest granddaughter. The child cannot understand, Why the old lady has changed. Alzheimers strikes gradually, Then picks up speed, torturing Both victim and family. Let's all remember, These unfortunate people. Let's give them an extra hug, On Valentine's Day which will bring happy thoughts of the past, and smiles that will longer last....
Archived comments for Alzheimer's
franciman on 15-02-2013
Alzheimers
Miel I liked this very much. My mother was a sufferer. On a poetic note, I found some of your line breaks a little jagged, e.g.
On Valentine's Day - to help
Them recall better times past,
small thing really and didn't spoil my read.
cheers,
Jim

Author's Reply:
Thanks so much Jim. I have tried to smoothen out the jagged closing.. But am still not too happy with the result.

Savvi on 16-02-2013
Alzheimers
You capture the suffering from both sides expertly, very well done, hugs all round. S

Author's Reply:
Thanks Savvi for reading my poem and for your generous comment.

Weefatfella on 17-02-2013
Alzheimers
 photo 615f3747-f93a-4017-925a-493d3a9cd963_zps9cdcaec0.jpg
It's an awful affliction.
It's past time we put all our efforts into eradicating it. Thank you for highlighting this horrible condition. Weefatfella.

Author's Reply:
Thanks Weefatfella for stopping by and commenting on my poem

RoyBateman on 17-02-2013
Alzheimers
Yes - a timely reminder of an awful affliction. It's possibly the worst thing that could happen, depriving someone of what is, basically, their whole personality. I admit, it's about the worst fate I could imagine.

Author's Reply:
I cannot agree more with you.. Thanks RoyBateman for your generous comment.

Andrea on 17-02-2013
Alzheimers
Great poem, dreadful disease.

Author's Reply:
Thanks so much Andrea for your generous comment and for rating my poem

discopants on 19-02-2013
Alzheimers
Like the sentiment and nicely articulated.

Author's Reply:


When the Music Plays - Revised (posted on: 08-02-13)
A slice of nostalgia...

We just listened to the tune, But not to our beating hearts. When the music plays my love, I think of what could have been. For years, we could easily, Have been singing together. When the music plays my love, I think of what could have been. It's too late now for regrets, So let's dry our tears and smile. When the music plays my love, I think of what could have been. Now that we've found each other, We'll let our hearts re-unite When the music plays my love, We'll remember what it means....
Archived comments for When the Music Plays - Revised
Bozzz on 09-02-2013
When the Music Plays
Your intentions are clear, but for me, in all honesty there is one too many repeats of the lower couplet, this is because the others are not quite strong enough to carry the latter along very far. Just trying to be helpful...Bozzz

Author's Reply:
Thanks Bozz for you frank opinion. You do have a point.. I shall try to sort out the problem


At the Funeral (posted on: 08-02-13)
A fictional write - just to make a point about sycophants / hypocrites

The bereaved family, teary eyed stood aside, watching carefully as the coffin was lowered to the strains of the hymn "Nearer my God to thee". The congregation sprayed rose petals on the grave. Unending eulogies followed, the priest began, and others continued. It was truly tragic. No one had time for him, when he was alive, but now in death he was being hero-worshipped. One wag, opened his mouth to comment - that dead men did not hear their praises. It was not well received, by his fawning relatives, who had forced the old man to live in solitude, till his death recently. "It's better to help the living, rather than shower empty praises on the dead!"
Archived comments for At the Funeral
ValDohren on 08-02-2013
At the Funeral
So true Miel, and just because someone is dead doesn't make them a decent person worthy of praise if they have spent their life being a shit !!

Val πŸ™‚

Author's Reply:
Thanks Val for reading and rating my poem.

Andrea on 08-02-2013
At the Funeral
Quite right! Did he have a lot of dosh to leave, I wonder?

Author's Reply:
Thanks Andrea for commenting and rating my poem

Pronto on 08-02-2013
At the Funeral
Very good well observed write poet well done!

Yup, only death can make a sinner into a saint. Strange this, people said my dad was a good man when he died He was an utter self-centred bastard all his life! He must have repented in the last seconds of his existence and I didn't notice! πŸ˜‰

Author's Reply:
Thanks for your astute comment and generous rating of my poem Pronto

Weefatfella on 09-02-2013
At the Funeral
 photo UKABueeyedhush.gif
Aye a bastard alive and and one less dead.
Weefatfella.

Author's Reply:
Thanks for commenting weefatfella.

cooky on 09-02-2013
At the Funeral
A truth which comes to us all for none of us are immortal.

Author's Reply:
Thanks so much Cooky for dropping by to comment on my poem and for your very generous rating


The Bracelet - Revised (posted on: 01-02-13)
A Cinderella style fictional write - on a poor girl trying to make it big in the city

The borrowed blue sapphire bracelet, Gleamed against her dark silk evening gown She looked much like a budding starlet, Oozing confidence - new face in town. Her family, awed by her beauty, Knew soon enough that she'd be a hit. And bet on her popularity, Stunning good looks plus extra sharp wit. True as she entered the party room, All heads did turn in her direction. The photographers on her did zoom, As young men vied for her attention. She was an instant social success, Her humble origins none did guess.
Archived comments for The Bracelet - Revised
Bozzz on 01-02-2013
The Bracelet
Slight variations in line length - and therefore in rhythm made this a bit less smooth than it could have been. Some good contrasts. Pictures painted are good, but somehow the poem's objective seemed a bit diffuse - just me perhaps?.....Bozzz.

Author's Reply:
Thanks for your comment Bozz. I have reworked the poem and do hope the objective is clear and that it reads better now..


The Broken Mirror (posted on: 01-02-13)
A fun write on an ageing star

She looked into the mirror, And what did she really see? An ageing wrinkled lady, And not one -young and sprightly. "Mirror mirror on the wall," She cried out loudly - "I don't Want to look aged and grey Please go back in time I pray" But the mirror didn't budge. Being one to hold a grudge, She picked up her stiletto And aimed it straight at the glass. "Since you make me look ugly, That's all you deserve from me. Now no one will look at you, You have been smashed into two!"
Archived comments for The Broken Mirror
stormwolf on 01-02-2013
The Broken Mirror
Boy, I think we have all had times we could have taken a stillleto to the mirror, I know I have! πŸ˜‰

Alison x

Author's Reply:
Thanks Alison for stopping by to comment on my poem

butters on 01-02-2013
The Broken Mirror
age is kind - it worsens our sight so we don't notice the flaws so much πŸ™‚

the aging lady in this piece sounds a bit of a diva!

Author's Reply:
Ha ha... Thanks so much for commenting!

Mikeverdi on 01-02-2013
The Broken Mirror
Its not just girls who have a problem with looking in the mirror!

Author's Reply:
Thanks for stopping to comment Mikeverdi

Bozzz on 01-02-2013
The Broken Mirror
A mirror is modesty's best friend. Raw feelings come when vanity meets truth.... Thanks for sharing - oh - and shaving wearing stiletto heels just in case I spot a wrinkle - never tried that....Bozzz

Author's Reply:
Thanks Bozz, stilettos have multiple uses!

ValDohren on 03-02-2013
The Broken Mirror
Know the feeling - prefer not to look in the mirror these days, not that it ever did me any favors!! But its bad luck to break them isn't it. Like this little ditty Miel, so true.

Val πŸ™‚

Author's Reply:


A Tough Life (posted on: 25-01-13)
My attempt at writing a Pantoum

He jumped into the well of loneliness, Vowing never to venture out again. His life had been full of unhappiness, He shielded himself from all further pain. Vowing never to venture out again, He wrote his memoirs diligently. He shielded himself from all further pain, Guarding his privacy vehemently. He wrote his memoirs diligently, Documenting every sad incident. Guarding his privacy vehemently, He had survived just by sheer accident. Documenting every sad incident, His life had been full of unhappiness, He had survived just by sheer accident He jumped into the well of loneliness.
Archived comments for A Tough Life
Bozzz on 26-01-2013
A Tough Life
I think you have done pretty well at that. Once the reader knows the target, he/she tends to focus on the structure rather than on what the poem is saying !
Guilty - so I point out that the line "He had survived by sheer accident." has one less syllable than the rest - easily rectified if you choose. Doleful message, tartly managed ...Bozzz


Author's Reply:
Thank you Bozz, since corrected...kind regards SM

Texasgreg on 28-01-2013
A Tough Life
Aye! So many different labels on the conveyance of heart to paper. His survival was no accident, but determination to continue his sad memoir...aye, some are just the melancholy soul lost amongst all others not searching at all.

Good technical attempt coupled with sustenance for the heart to ponder.

Greg πŸ™‚

Author's Reply:
Thanks Greg, the Pantoum is quite a challenging form..


Grandma Fever (posted on: 25-01-13)
This is an attempt I made to to tweak John Masefield's poem - Sea Fever.

I must go down to Grandma's home again, to feel her loving care. And all I ask is for another chance to use her rocking chair. A large wedge of warm apple tart, the tastiest of her goodies And for Dad to take me out there in one of those quaint old buggies. I must go down to Grandma's home again, it's my happiest dream. Only Gran knows exactly how to serve fresh strawberries and cream. And all I ask, is for some warm sunshine to let me stay outside. And listen to the birds sing, while on Grandpa's bike I hitch a ride. I must go down to Grandma's home again, to smell burning firewood. To be able to meet the friendly woodcutter in his black hood. And all I ask for is some free time to reach there without a care. And I want is to stand beneath the oak tree and idly stare. I must go down to Grandma's home again, there is no better way, To spend a carefree, lighthearted, pampered and very relaxed day. And all I ask is for Dad to reach me to my destination. And if he doesn't want a buggy ride we'll use the bus station. I must go down to Grandma's home again, to relive those times past, To the place and the people where love and kindness were built to last. And all I ask is for Dad to be my travelling companion And a quick and comfortable ride for this special reunion.
Archived comments for Grandma Fever
Bozzz on 25-01-2013
Grandma Fever
What Dad could refuse that ! I remember the feeling well. A stick of Folkestone rock was the icing on the cake. Touching poem, well done....Bozzz

Author's Reply:
Thanks so much Bozz for your encouraging comment..

Texasgreg on 27-01-2013
Grandma Fever
Aye! Left a sick and lonely feeling in my stomache, but not necessarily a bad thing. Just wishing to relive.

Greg πŸ™‚

Author's Reply:
Thanks Greg

Nomenklatura on 27-01-2013
Grandma Fever
Jaunty rhythm that falters only in a few places (I saw that it is unmetered) liked the idea of parody/homage of/to Sea Fever. Fun!

Author's Reply:
Thank you so much Nomenklatura, for your comment, i have now spruced up the poem.. Hopefully it reads better now.

Andrea on 27-01-2013
Grandma Fever
Ooooh, your Grandma's home sounds lovely! Mine loved in a freezing council flat in North London, with no hot water πŸ™‚

Nice, sentimental pome.

Author's Reply:
Thanks Andrea...

ValDohren on 27-01-2013
Grandma Fever
Great write. Never had a grandma's house to go to so I envy your memories, sounds wonderful.

Val

Author's Reply:
Thanks Val for stopping by to read and comment on my poem so glad you liked it..i spent some wonderful times in my Gran's house.

stormwolf on 31-01-2013
Grandma Fever
Hi Meil
this really struck a chord in me for I am a grandma and I love my grandchildren so much. My little granddaughter loves coming to "my little house" and I am sure when she is older, she would agree with so much you have written here. It is a very heart-warming uplifting poem that left me happier by the reading. Crit

the rhythm is not consistent and it you could get it to be so it would be a real corker of a poem. I am rating it 8 but if the rhythm was tighter a nine easily.

Alison x

Rhythm can be dodgy I know but read it out tapping your hand on a table to every emphases and you will see where it goes awry



Author's Reply:
Thank you so much Alison.. I will take your advice and try to see if I can get the rhythm right over the weekend.. Warm regards.. SM


The death of a poem! (posted on: 18-01-13)
A short piece on writers' block.

Sometimes it's crazy, the brain seems to shrink, the pen runs out of ink, the words do not flow, the Muse willy-nilly throws, a massive tantrum and the poem dies!!
Archived comments for The death of a poem!
butters on 19-01-2013
The death of a poem!
ha! who hasn't been there before? one we can all associate with πŸ™‚

Author's Reply:
Thanks so much Butters

amman on 20-01-2013
The death of a poem!
Know exactly what you mean. Got a box full of 'em. Nice poem.
Regards.

Author's Reply:


A Visit (posted on: 18-01-13)
A short write on two uninvited guests...

Sorrow and her sister pain, Dropped in yesterday. These uninvited guests Overstayed, to disturb My peace and happiness. When they stood up to leave, A feeling of relief Descended on me, but It was very short- lived. Their perfume lingered on. With each breath that I took, I felt their strong presence Back in the room, as if They had never left it. Seems they've adopted me.
Archived comments for A Visit
Weefatfella on 18-01-2013
A Visit
Photobucket

I know how you feel.
They're friends of mine too.
They have cousins who are more sinister, don't want to meet them.
Thought provoking.
Enjoyed.
Thank you for Sharing.
Weefatfella

Author's Reply:
Thank you Weefatfella...i certainly do not want to meet the cousins...

butters on 18-01-2013
A Visit
Sorrow and Pain are sisters best to avoid if you can - my sympathies if this is from a personal pov. :rose:

Author's Reply:
Thanks Rose, this poem was written on a dull day ... Fortunately it is not reality

Andrea on 19-01-2013
A Visit
Yes, we've all met them I think - they certainly get around them sister!

Author's Reply:

franciman on 19-01-2013
A Visit
This has a very intimate feel to it. If it is a personal perspective, I hope the write is therapeutic - it should be.
My very best wishes,
Jim

Author's Reply:

Bozzz on 19-01-2013
A Visit
Yes, we all have such visitations. Time never completely banishes them, but they visit less often as the years go by. Small mercy at the moment. Well portrayed, well written....Bozzz

Author's Reply:
Thanks so much Bozz for your encouraging comment

Romany on 19-01-2013
A Visit
I like this, but I think that if you got rid of the exclamation mark it would be better. The rest of the poem has a serious air to it that the exclamation mark somehow trivialises, just my opinion of course.

Romany

Author's Reply:
Thank you for your opinion... I agree with you and have removed the exclamation mark.

Savvi on 21-01-2013
A Visit
Them bloody sisters never get a warm welcome, Malt whiskey is their Kryptonit, well they become dull after a bottle. πŸ™‚ Not that I recommend drinking to cope with the sisters πŸ™ S

Author's Reply:

bo_duke99 on 22-01-2013
A Visit
uh-oh

Author's Reply:


The Poet's World (posted on: 11-01-13)
Poetry provides a welcome respite from stress...

Whenever I am stressed, Or feel deeply distressed, I attempt escaping, into that super world of real poetic fun. I let my Muse run wild, taking up the carefree attitude of a child. She always fires up my imagination. Takes me to new places, where reality fades and escapism brings new experiences, helping me to forget trials and tribulations. It's another world, far from the harsh one we face. One that brings moments of exhilaration, by merely leaving all our troubles behind, I bask in the sunshine breathe in the fresh ozone... Then return refreshed.... to face the real world, its many challenges and life in general...
Archived comments for The Poet's World
Savvi on 11-01-2013
The Poets World
Ah, Cathartic couplets, I totally agree. S

Author's Reply:

Texasgreg on 12-01-2013
The Poets World
I really appreciated this piece for what it simply says it is. Aye! To make a new reality if but briefly is a health benefit, IMO.

Good job!

Greg πŸ™‚

Author's Reply:

stormwolf on 13-01-2013
The Poets World
Ain't that the truth!

Nicely put.
Alison x

Author's Reply:


A Message from the Trenches (posted on: 04-01-13)
This poem was written after seeing a Picture of Soldiers huddled in Trenches during World War I at Christmas time ...

While you are at Midnight Service in Church, We lie huddled in our make-shift trenches. It's freezing and we feel left in the lurch, What wouldn't we give to sit on benches? While you keep up the true Christmas spirit, With some plum cake and red wine after Mass, We'll trade tales of better days that merit Remembrance, avoiding all that is crass. We're surely not looking for sympathy, All we want is for you to know we're well. We may not celebrate with roast turkey But we're alive even if it's in hell. We are, for small mercies, very grateful, A few blankets would make life less hateful.
Archived comments for A Message from the Trenches
ifyouplease on 04-01-2013
A Message from the Trenches
very strong and another vivid poem today. good read.

Author's Reply:
Thank you so much for your generous comment

deed on 04-01-2013
A Message from the Trenches
Yes they must have thought a lot about the people back home celebrating Christmas. They would have hoped that somebody would spare a thought for them. We can see in the poem that even Christmas Day there was special. You must have thought much about the rhyme 'lurch'? At first I thought it a bit contrived but I changed my mind because it's ugly sound gives the perfect impression of how they felt. I love rhyming poetry but I have such difficulty writing I usually opt for blank verse as the easy way out. This poem shows how rhyme can be used to good effect. This is true of 'crass.' I believe that, at that time, it would be true - but not now I suspect.


Author's Reply:
Thanks so much for your kind and detailed comment... You make some very interesting observations about the rhyme scheme I have used...

franciman on 04-01-2013
A Message from the Trenches
As a writer, the Great War is my sphere of interest. The picture you paint is very complex and yet extremely simple. Life in a nutshell, I suppose. This is great verse and would sing even without the rhyme.
cheers,
Jim

Author's Reply:
Thanks Jim for your generous comment. i am so glad you liked my poem.. The subject of war has always interested me too.

roger303 on 04-01-2013
A Message from the Trenches
A very emotive and powerful subject which many poets cannot ignore.
Nicely done.
Roger.

Author's Reply:
Thanks so much

Mikeverdi on 04-01-2013
A Message from the Trenches
An excellent read, written in a way that is believable; It could have come strait from the trenches. Mike

Author's Reply:
Thanks Mikeverdi, i appreciate your very kind and generous comment.. I am happy you liked the poem

Texasgreg on 05-01-2013
A Message from the Trenches
Your empathy and ability to see through their eyes comes through strong and true.

Good job!

Greg πŸ™‚

Photobucket.

Author's Reply:
Thanks Greg.. For your very generous comment

Andrea on 05-01-2013
A Message from the Trenches
Nicely done, Miel.

Author's Reply:
Thanks so much Andrea

Bozzz on 06-01-2013
A Message from the Trenches
The message is strong - I think I might have asked for a regiment of women - purely as reinforcements of course. Blankets in trenches soon get sodden - believe me I know. Good poem, catches the mood.....Bozzz.

Author's Reply:
Thank you Bozzz, i am so glad you like the poem...you have a point about the blankets!

butters on 06-01-2013
A Message from the Trenches
just a few blankets ... *sighs*

what a contrast to what so many want today at christmas; and you use the contrast between christmas at home and in the trenches to good effect.

you invite empathy without demanding sympathy.

Author's Reply:
Thank you very much Butters... For dropping by and commenting on my poem

Savvi on 06-01-2013
A Message from the Trenches
Love the contrast you show us and the topic is very powerful, well written and thought provoking. S

Author's Reply:
Thanks so much Savvi


Finding Grandpa's Home (posted on: 28-12-12)
A fun write....

I rode right across the mountains, To find the place where I was born. They told me it was a small town, In the midst of hilly terrain, Where only the rugged survived! My parents moved to the valley, To avoid the cold and live well. But right through my childhood I dreamt, Of mountains and their snowy peaks. Something just kept drawing me there. After doing what seemed like hours On horseback, I reached a small town, Where the folks looked strangely at me. They were not used to visitors, Fear and suspicion greeted me. Bravely I dismounted and smiled. Then very politely I asked, If anyone knew grandpa's home. He was long dead, but I was sure There'd be some trace of his homestead. A toothless old woman appeared, Gesticulating quite wildly She pointed to a distant spot, Where a lovely thatched cottage stood, Insisting that grandpa lived there. Somehow this place corresponded, With my notion of my birthplace. A home in the hills, full of shrubs, Wide open spaces and brown steps, Where children played unendingly. Mounting my steed, I headed there. The further I rode the further, The mysterious home did recede. My determination was killed And I awoke - it was a dream!
Archived comments for Finding Grandpa's Home
Andrea on 28-12-2012
Finding Grandpas Home
nice! and welcome to uka...(did i say that before?)

Author's Reply:
Thanks Andrea

franciman on 28-12-2012
Finding Grandpas Home
Hi There,
I found this really engaging. It painted all the right pictures. My one gripe is that I didn't need telling it was a dream. Would have been happier to be left with Grandpa's house always being elusive.
cheers,
Jim

Author's Reply:
Thanks Jim For your kind comment....

Texasgreg on 30-12-2012
Finding Grandpas Home
Aye! Had me going, you did...

Wonderful dream, though!

Greg πŸ™‚

Photobucket.

Author's Reply:


The Necklace - A Triolet (posted on: 21-12-12)
A few lines on an exquisite diamond necklace in the triolet format Rhyme scheme - A,b,a, A, a,b, A, B...

The glittering stones dazzled me, each time they caught a ray of light. They were extra-ordinary. The glittering stones dazzled me, but the necklace didn't come free. For my purse, the price wasn't right. The glittering stones dazzled me, each time they caught a ray of light. Copyright © 2012 SM All rights reserved
Archived comments for The Necklace - A Triolet
Andrea on 21-12-2012
The Necklace - A Triolet
It's rather a good triolet. I had a go at one once (after I'd looked up what it was). It went thusly (and is awful):

TRIOLET

How Great My Grief, I’m dΓ©solΓ©
I can’t compose a triolet.
Rhyme alas is not my forte,
if it was I wouldn’t be short, eh?
of a needy bob or two,
would be handy, see me through.
But alas, I can’t compose,
so looks as if I’ll decompose
on the slag β€˜eap of the poor
C’est la vie, say no more.



Author's Reply:
Thank you Andrea...your triolet made me smile...the melange of anglais & francais is delightful


The Snowflake (posted on: 17-12-12)
The short life of a pretty little snowflake

Standing at my window, I watched him float Gently on his journey, Through freezing winds. He looked so majestic, The largest flake. But, just before I could reach out to him, He touched the ground. My perfect white snowflake, Was soon no more, He lay buried in snow. Copyright © 2012 SM All rights reserved
Archived comments for The Snowflake
ValDohren on 17-12-2012
The Snowflake
Beautiful, and a great metaphor.

Val

Author's Reply:


A Christmas Tale (posted on: 10-12-12)
A short narrative poem about shoppers at Christmas and the need to put a smile on the face of the less fortunate...

A shabbily dressed man, Entered the shopping mall. In awe he looked around, The buntings, shining lights, The giant Christmas tree, With jazzily wrapped gifts, Piled up high at the base. Is all this for real? He thought aloud - his first Christmas in the city... Soon he pulled a trolley, And walked around the stores. While other shoppers filled Their caddies rapidly, His remained quite empty. With the few coins he had, Not much could he afford. A tear ran down his cheek, Another giftless Christmas For the love of his life..... An elderly lady, Watched him from a distance. She noticed a shop girl Talk to him quite brusquely, As if he were a thief. That angered her a lot, She approached the young man And asked him if she could Share his trolley to heap Her own buys - she was old. Embarrassed, he agreed. While they walked down the aisles, She learned about his life, His hard- working girl friend... She kept consulting him, On all her purchases. When the trolley was full, They approached the cashier, She paid for her goodies And they walked to the door. Once outside, she handed The bag to him saying: " Merry Christmas, my son May these little things, bring Joy to your family. The Lord sent me to you, His way of blessing you!" With these words, she vanished. The young man was too shocked He'd not even thanked her!
Archived comments for A Christmas Tale
Texasgreg on 10-12-2012
A Christmas Tale
Now that's the Christmas spirit!

Thank you...

Greg πŸ™‚

Photobucket.

Author's Reply:
Thank you so much Greg..A merry Christmas to you and yours.. warm regards SM

franciman on 10-12-2012
A Christmas Tale
Welcome to UKA.

Great narrative verse with an undisguised Christmas message. The right one I would say. It is understandably predictable, but I suggest you cut



'Watched him from a distance.

She noticed a shop girl

Talk to him quite brusquely,

As if he were a thief.

That angered her a lot,

She'



It would then read:



An elderly lady,

approached the young man

And asked him if she could

Share his trolley to heap

Her own buys - she was old.



That way you engage the reader's curiosity. I suggest this only because I love the message in this and its easy reading fashion.

cheers,

Jim

Author's Reply:
Thank you Jim, I will work on your suggestion as it needs to have the right stanza length.. It is really kind of you to take the trouble to read, rate and suggest changes. Cheers Sandra

Savvi on 11-12-2012
A Christmas Tale
Feeling all christmasy now, thanks for te read

Author's Reply:
Tahnks Savvi for your kind comment and for rating my poem

royrodel on 14-12-2012
A Christmas Tale
only if.

Author's Reply:
Thank you so much


A Letter to Santa (posted on: 07-12-12)
Written after a visit to an Old Age Home.

Oh for the feel of home and the familiar, the place where I belong. Dear Santa take me there if only for a day. Here I'm a visitor. I am waiting to leave, whenever the Good Lord declares my time is up! Before that, I just want to feel the true spirit of Christmas once again! The joys of being home, a slice of roast turkey and a glass of red wine. Please Santa will you grant my wish just one last time, my address - Old Age Home.
Archived comments for A Letter to Santa
amman on 07-12-2012
A Letter to Santa
Hi Miel. Such sad sentiments in your poem but one can imagine the dislocation that some may feel out of familiar surroundings. Nicely constructed 'Dear Santa' storyline.
Welcome to UKA.
Regards.

Author's Reply:
Thank you so much Amman for your kind and generous comment and for rating my poem. I am new on this site and am still to familiarise myself with how it works.
Regards
SM

Andrea on 07-12-2012
A Letter to Santa
So sad and wistful. My kids have strict instruction NEVER to put me in a care home! Touching poem, and welcome to UKA!

Author's Reply:
Thank you so much Andrea for your kind and generous comment and for rating my poem. I am new on this site and am still to familiarise myself with how it works.
Regards
SM

Ionicus on 08-12-2012
A Letter to Santa
"Dear Santa take me there
if only for a day.
Here I'm a visitor."
A sad reflection of the loneliness that old people feel in care homes. A plea that Santa can't refuse.

Welcome to the site.

Author's Reply:
Thank you Ionicus for your kind welcome and for your astute comment

ValDohren on 08-12-2012
A Letter to Santa
These places are always very sad - a moving poem reflecting insight and compassion.

Welcome to UKA.

Val

Author's Reply:

Bozzz on 08-12-2012
A Letter to Santa
Your light touch hides the sheer terror that old folk feel on this problem. Beautifully done, Miel.....Bozzz

Author's Reply:
Thank you so much Bozz for your kind and insightful comment.SM