555 Days... The Continuation

Welcome to 555 Days as a Poet by The Crafty Scribe

Back in 2010, I challenged myself to write a poem or a short verse a day, and post it to a blog. 555 Days as a Poet by The Crafty Scribe is the continuation of the experiment.

I gave myself 18 months to recover from the original daily blog postings, and now, I am ready to start it all over again. Although as I was beginning in the middle of the year, I thought 6 months was too short a time after my last experience.

"If I could complete a year of poems, how about 18 months?" I thought. I worked out that would be 549 days. I could have rounded it up to 550 to included New Years Day 2014, but then I thought I'd go 5 better... to 555 days.

Why 555? According to many spiritual teachers, the number 555 is a sign of change and the flow of energy. I thought it related to the blog. I spent a year writing a poem every day, then rested for 18 months. Now the tide has turned. It's time to begin the flow of words in my life again.

I'm not a trained poet, just an enthusiastic scribe wanting to create something new each day. I don't truly know my stanza from my meter, but I hope to improve and get my poetic license someday! Expect the weird, the strange and the inner workings of the Crafty Scribe's mind. Let's ride the waves once more.

Please pass on the blog address to all your verse and lyrical loving friends. I hope you will join me, and read my daily scribbling.

Wednesday 31 July 2013

"Ashes" (Entry 377)

Ashes. 
She was used to seeing ashes. 
Fireplaces in every room of the big house where she worked. 
Lowly maid, cleaning grates, when she was younger. 
Much younger. 
Then she met him, in line at the pictures,
His face a picture as he offered her a cigarette. 
Knowing from that first moment. 
Together Forever. 

Ashes.
Happy cleaning her own fireplace. 
House proud. Proud of her life. 
Their own place. Home. 
Where they raised their family. 
Happy. Together Forever. 

Ashes. 
She washed the ashes from her devastated son's face,
As they climbed over the rubble of their home - 
Bombed, burnt to the ground - Blitzed. 
Knowing that as long as her family where at her side and 
He was fine on his far off duty,
They would build their home again. 
Happy. Apart for Now, but Together Forever. 

Ashes. 
She laughed along with her family 
As the ashes from Chinese lanterns landed gently around them. 
Fireworks shone in some exotic celebration. 
Singapore where she followed him on his last posting and 
She learnt about style, silk and sophistication. 
Happy. Together Forever. 

Ashes. 
She'd often brush the ash from his hair each morning
As he returned from late nights at the Foundry. 
Back in Blighty, saving hard
To put the children through good schools and colleges. 
Happy. Together Forever. 

Ashes. 
She cleaned the ash trays 
Filled to the brim after part-time work in the pub to pay for holidays and family presents and treats. 
Or those used at home in evenings with friends. 
A time full of music and dance
And Gin and Tonic and John Players and 
Benson and Hedges and Martini. 
Happy. Together Forever. 

Ashes. 
She was use to ashes,
But not like these. 
She stared into the Urn. 
Cough turned to blood which turned him ashen. 
Cancer. 
Cigarette ashes to ashes. 
Dust to Dust. 
Knowing one day, she'll be with his again. 
Happy. Together Forever.
Together Forever. 
Together. 
Forever. 
Forever. 


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