The Key

Good Morning,
The following poem is small, but one of my favourite pieces. Not only is it very true - it's also wise. I guess some would call it a quote!

My Grandfather Horris, was small in stature, but huge of heart. Wise beyond his years and kinder than the truest of loves. He once told me that the grandest of things, come in the smallest of packages. He was clearly referring to himself and how true his words were. He imparted in me some of the most beautiful thing I have ever known.  This is so true of this free verse poem. which I dedicate to him.


The Key

I can write the words you need to read

I will speak the words you need to hear

I can show you the doors through which
you need to walk

But it is you alone who holds the key to
release you from your chains.


By Helen Stallard
March 27, 2014

One Shared Love

Good Afternoon,
I wrote the following poem for my son in-law in September 2010. He gave my son Adam a new meaning and purpose in life and I felt in the moments before they became a couple, that I might lose him altogether. Luke grounded my son Adam and I penned this for him to explain why. I am indebted to him to this day - for giving my my son back.

One Shared Love

We all need a light... a guide in our lives

Something that's needed for which we will fight

We all need something to take breath away

An essence so precious, we want it to stay

Something so loved it brings you such joy

Like a mothers love for her little boy!

Sometimes that light fades to tarnished grey

You search for the reasons, to a new way

Hating the poison that tainted your ones special love

Searching, hell and heaven for a feathered peace dove

When all seems lost and the grey turns to black

Along comes his hero and carries him back.

With Much: By Helen Stallard

March 25, 2014

The Wood Cutter

Good Evening, 
Today I had the opportunity to do one of the things I love. I observed… I observed in awe; the art of a wood cutter and I was so taken with him and his craft that I sat and wrote. Now I share this with you an hope you enjoy my verbal visioning's. 

The Wood Cutter

Freshly cut wood, tempts me out to see

This gargantuan man dissecting a tree

Blade spinning aptly like knives through butter

A wonderful sight to watch this wood cutter

Plumes of smoke make diesel filled air

Flying wood chips; like sparks from a flare

Pounding and pushing splitting it cracks

Shoulders taught with the weight of that axe

Shattering wood with the strength of his back

He bests the wood while avoiding the sap

Muscles flex as he swings at the pine

His stares intense as he follows the line

Singularly he ploughs onwards in his task

Only ever pausing to sip from his flask

Jaw clenched as sweat soaks his brow

Swinging onward through branch and bough

This chiseled man so rugged and grand

At one with himself in this wooded land.

By Helen Stallard

March 23, 2014

The Manager

Good Evening, 
Today's poem is an alternative look at a job held by millions. 

The Manager

Singular in your doing of all

Elated as your enemies fall

Relentless in your perfectionist pursuit

Endearing as you wrestle the brute

Grounding as you strive for more

Exhausted as you view the floor

Demanding as you take your stand

Revolted by a helping hand

Critical as you view your crew

Dismissive as you build anew

Creative as you give another

Formidable you… these children’s mother 

By Helen Stallard

March 22, 2014

Empty Beach

Good Evening, 

The following poem is about a childhood haunt of mine. I adored it there and still travel there with buy own children today. Every visit brings a new adventure and loving memory. 

Empty Beach

The sheer cliff edge crests out before me,

To down below, where the land meets the sea.

Wrinkling sands fluting this beach,

Kissing fallen rocks, wherever they meet.

Deep, cool rock pools hold the tiniest of lives,

And offer these lives secret places to hide.

Niches, crevices, pebbles - all places to dwell,

For odd little creatures; some huddled in shells.

High in the cliffs, lay gaping mouths of caves,

 Dryly they wait to be licked by fresh waves.

Splashing springs turn to clear water falls,

Tracking to the sea, down hard, granite walls.

Screaming above, the caw of common gulls,

Their sharp, shrill cries penetrating my skull.

Those aerial acrobatics as they take flight,

For a tasty morsel, over which they now fight.

Tasting the sea salt from my grinning lips,

Smelling the sea spray, as I count distant ships.

I’m burying my toes deep in the sand,

As I admire my place, in this alien land.

By Helen Stallard

March 21, 2014

The Velvet Glove

Good Afternoon,
I write this poem with a heavy heart, knowing I was failed and have failed due to depression. Nothing is an insurmountable brick wall and acceptance is the first part of healing.


The Velvet Glove

When memories return
Trickle through the cracks of my resolve
Then painful confusion
As they all start to stir... revolve
Those punishments you deemed as fit to deliver
Haunt the child in me and she begins to quiver
Observing my siblings, baring your wrath
No memories now of the sound of your laugh
The coldness in your eyes, the darkness in your heart
Brings childhood dreams of which I can't depart
These thoughts that provoke a repulsion in me
Of a person I disliked and will never strive to be
Wishes then sent to my lord above
Were of you donning a velvet glove!
As I child I could have never known
Back then you sat, on depressions 'Grimm' throne.


By Helen Stallard
March 18, 2014

A Contradiction

Good Evening, 

Today's poem is about the contradictions in relations. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed penning it. 

A Contradiction

The sun in the night sky

The moon in brilliant sun

The joy in your frown

The sadness in your fun 

The dryness of the water

The honesty in the sly 

The coldness in your warmth

The laughter in your cry

The stillness in the movement

The swaying in the rock

The haste in your slowness

The calmness in your shock 

The beauty in the beast

The cloud in empty skies

The feral in your tameness

The truth within your lies

The fullness in the hunger

The ending in the start

The loving in your cruelness

The stillness of your heart

The empty in the fullness 

The bitter in the sweet

The curtness in your softness

The coolness of your heat   

The open in the closed

The lacking in the great

The sadness in your smile

The loving in your hate

By Helen Stallard

March 16, 2014

Carnival Meadow

Hi All, 

Today's post takes me to a place I nick named Carnival Meadow. A place as a child I found solitude and an abundance of wonder. 

Carnival Meadow

The yellow gold amongst the trees,

In still silence, but for buzzing bees.

Plush meadow stretching far and wide,

A gurgling brook that frames one side.

Red Admirals flit from bloom to bloom,

On this sweet meadow they do festoon.

Pink and whites and tangerine hughes, 

A carpet of flowers with speckles of blue.

Each footstep scatters and army of life, 

Spiralling upwards in distress and strife.

Delicate scents fill the warmed air,

of Carnival Meadow with flowers so fair.

By Helen Stallard

March 15, 2014

Gathering Strength

Good Evening, 

The following poem is for those who have been bullied. I felt trapped and recoiled into my own fantasy world when I was bullied. Now I thank those who bullied me for enabling me and as the poem reads, it made me strong and determined to do well. 

For anyone out there, young or old who is a victim of bullying… own it. Take that negative energy and envelope it in positive energy. 

Gathering Strength

I am the one who sees not joins

Not to be seen seeing, but looking on

I am as visible to them as oxygen

As I skirt about their peripherals

Mostly ignored yet always there

Unless they choose to toy with me

Then I am flesh for the taking

Only for their pleasure, entertainment?

Then I am fair game - ridiculed, persecuted

Pushed and poked

I assume a silent persona then

The persona of one who is emotionless

Unfeeling to guard myself; yet inside

Oh if you could read my eyes

They are alive with hate and revenge

An all consuming need

To take back what once was mine

A life so lost it is beyond recognition

Contorted with wicked thoughts

The best plans are those pondered in time

Everything that I am will come to consume them

For every passing comment and jibe

Each hit and humiliation

Pay back’s a bitch

Until then you use me, making me stronger

Once I have gathered my strength

There will be a storm force warning! 

Until then...

I am the wind moving about you

You know I am there, yet you choose to ignore me

To you ignorance is bliss

For me ignorance is fuel.

March 14, 2014

By Helen Stallard

Woodland Prince

Good Morning,

Today's early morning post is free verse and jaunty. I do so enjoy my woodland walks and always feel

inspired. As an observational/confessional poet. I often put my self in place of my subjects. Hoping to gain better insight to their perspective. In this poem I have enthused to do just that. Having a love of oaks I often ponder on how hard it must be to grow to such grandeur… the obstacles in their paths and the very awakening of them. Hence 'Woodland Prince' was born. 

Woodland Prince

Slowly unfurling to the sweet warmth penetrating my being

Basking in the rays that dapple through the deep canopy

I wake to beaded water droplets, festooning silken webs

Sending cascading colours across the soft mossy floor

The dampness around me, a heady palette of musk

Mouldy moisture and yet a pleasant taste to me

Glorious jade greens dance gaily to my eyes

The ever-changing canopy waltzing about

Splaying light beams to dark crevasses

Breathing life to dank cold corners

An abundance of new birth to all

I’m still now… as I take stock

A momentary pause in time

Before I begin my ascent

Taking my rightful place

Among the giants

To be mammoth

Living legend

Whispering

Oak

By Helen Stallard

March 10, 2014

Above and Beyond

Hi All, 
I wrote this poem for my eldest daughter Jasmine, who literally gave her sister the clothes off her back the other day.
No big thing for most I know, but it overwhelmed me. The lengths she will go to to help her siblings knows no bounds. You make me so very proud… I love you Jasmine x x

Above and Beyond

Clearer than water my love running through 

Clearer than crystal my feelings to you 

Enough to hand you the clothes of my back

Enough to absorb your mood when black

More than the beautiful heavens above

More than life is how much I love

Reliable as the moon in darkened sky

Reliable as the sun that sets on high

Deeper than the ocean blue

The love that I hold

My sister 

for you.

By Helen Stallard

March 9, 2014

Begin Again

Good Evening, 

I am a firm believer in hitting your reset button. Frequently do and probably always will. Positive thinking enables me to do that. So out of that very thought process, was born the following poem. 



Begin Again

Quiet moment... second chance, begin again?

Pregnant pause... awkward stance, begin again?

Fiery stares... darkened past, begin again?

Peaceful reflection... coming last, begin again?

Pondered thoughts... breaking through, begin again?

Opened doors... start anew, begin again! 

By Helen Stallard

March 8, 2014

Internet Sensation

Good Evening, 

Today's post came to me while looking through my Twitter feed.I believe the rest is self explanatory. Enjoy :) 

Internet Sensation

Did you see that clip, that video - got posted up today?

The guy’s so mental, such a laugh -  so his fans all say.

Crazy tricks, insane pranks - he’s gonna be a star!

It’s amazing, with so many hits - he’s going to go far.

No stopping him, his freakish style - as an internet sensation,

Nothing there, to hold him back - as he’s shared about our nation.

With ‘danger’ just a whispered word - his fear has no bounds.

What will his next clip have in store - as this clip does the rounds.

Quick as a flash, he was gone - the next fool takes his place,

With danger as their middle name - another basket case.

By Helen Stallard

March 7, 2015

Empty Wallets

Good Evening, 

Another late post… Oops!

I wrote this poem last night, at my local public house, while sitting alone people watching. I do so enjoy people watching. 

Empty Wallets

The hops assault my senses,

the noise my ears!

These empty vessels with glazed eyes.

Chuckles... gurgle up from throaty grunts.

Women dressed in scraps, 

bare too much flesh.

A wanton desire, hidden behind fake lashes,

Dancing? No fluidity in these moves.

Touting for more than they deserve!

Beer goggles adorn these drunken fools,

Easily parted with hard earned cash.

Cash for kids or cash for kicks?

Wives home alone with TV trash, 

Too dried out to please their men,

Too dejected and fried for lust.

And so the cycle continues...

These empty men, with empty eyes, 

With empty wallets for empty wives!

By Helen Stallard

March 6, 2014

A Body Yearns

Good Evening Again, 

Two poems today for your perusal. As I missed yesterdays I thought I had best catch up. :) 

A Body Yearns

Darkened room - a candle burns,

Blistering desire - a body yearns,

Polished rubber - a playful squeeze,

Sternest stare - a playful tease!

Leather paddle - a testing tap,

Twisting ropes - a heavier slap,

Cuffed wrists - a biting nip,

Cuffed ankles - a finger slips.

Whipping bench - a reddened mark,

Exquisite pain – a back arcs,

Clawing nails - a bloodied trail.

Pleadingly pleasing - a plaited flail.

Moment passed - a body yearns,

Aching void - a want returns,

Trembling body - a ‘SUB’ space,

Passing smile - a mistress’s grace!

By Helen Stallard

March 5, 2014

Perfect Imperfections

Good Evening,

Sorry for the late posting!

I wanted to tell a story in this poem and I hope you like the way it reads. We women often can't fathom what a man sees in us. A man once told me that he loved my perfect imperfections. I didn't get it at the time, but age has taught me the depth in that comment. 

Perfect Imperfections

Perfect imperfections are all that you see,

Looking deep into my eyes and all around me!

Odd shaped breasts… over-sized nose, 

Fuzzy brown hair, the longer it grows. 

Scars on my body from the joys of child birth,

With a wobbly tummy and an over-sized girth.

Now liver spots grow on the back of my hands, 

And I’m no easier now for you to understand.

But my kiss is the same and all that I feel,

From this ageing woman, still sexy and real.

A total contradiction is all that I am, 

But I still have that love... the love of my man!

By Helen Stallard

March 5, 2014

Envelope Me

Good Afternoon All, 

Today's free verse poem, is a slightly tongue in cheek look at something I feel most of take for granted. See if you can work out where I was when I wrote it, as that was my inspiration.
Enjoy. :-)

Envelope Me

Feeling you... Cold at first.

I run my palms searchingly over you, 

Knowing you will warm to me.

To my touch!

Spending such time, longing for you, 

Through the hours I am without you.

I crave your softness, to slide into you.

Gravitating to all you offer.

There are times when sparks fly,

Through the friction between us.

I have betrayed you at times,

Turned to another.

Still in those moments I think of you.

Yearn for the solitude that only you can bring me. 

That safety - wrapped in you. 

Warm and protected. 

In your familiarity, Your smell.

My comfort... My security. 

I am enveloped in you. 

I adore you!

My bed.

By Helen Stallard

March 3, 2014

The Secret

Good Afternoon All, 
The following poem is very personal to me. An 'AHA' moment! That was thrust upon me by my eldest son Adam and youngest daughter Tegyn. Many thanks to them both. 

The Secret

One minute pebble, a ripple makes!

Of constant rings across this lake.

Spontaneous acts, in one swift thought,

My simple action has now brought.

This energy in secret things,

A grandiose change in me does bring.

The slightest shift, of brightest light.

Brought about a change of flight.

A Changing power from deep within,

A newer focus, must now begin.

So basic in its purest form.

Uniquely... I now feel re-born!

By Helen Stallard

March 2, 2014

Conflicted Mind

Good Evening all, 

I will write only one thing regarding my poem this evening. It is crippling to suffer from mental health issues… Support and love those you know who struggle. God Bless. 

Conflicted Mind

When I look at you, what do I see?

This creature, glaring back at me.

When I’m serious, you act the clown,

You see my smile, yet you frown.

When I’m quiet, ‘BANG’ you’re loud,

In my solitude, you seek a crowd.

When I’m sad, you wish to laugh,

I say shower, you need to bath.

When I choose black, you spit white,

I crave peace, you shout fight.

When my heart says love, you just hate.

If I am early, you are always late.

Knowing you is like having a twin,

A vile disease festering under my skin.

Conflicted mind in my personality,

You in the mirror, are murderous to me.

By Helen Stallard

April 1, 2014