Survivor & Other Poems - new book out now

This is my new book, a collection of my poems available from Amazon or as a download to Kindle,

Residual Sadness - a very old poem of mine

Residual sadness

Its waking up in the morning

to feel an empty side of the bed.

It's answering phones at the time he rings

to find someone else there instead.

It's every love song you've ever heard

played on the radio all day.

It's looking at your road and knowing.

You should have gone the other way.

It's seeing the whole world holding hands

when yours touches empty air.

It's seeing a closed door begin to open

and hoping he's standing there.

It's having to become a stranger

when you know all there is to know.

It's hearing the future callling you

when you dont want to go.

It's walking down a crowded street

and feeling totally alone.

It's watching the warmth of a passionate heart

slowly turn to stone.

It's your soul trapped in shadows

while the sun warms your face.

It's the afterglow of ashes

as burning feelings begin to fade.

photo from pixabay creative commons

The Journey Back - a poem about depression

I'm not a perfect person

There are days the world crumbles around me

I can do nothing as inertia engulfs me

I cannot even see

What others see so clearly

as they criticize the debris

that's building all around me.

It was long ago the monster came

and destroyed all I used to be

I have a million scars inside

from a world that terrified me

and locked me into silent armour

that can only be penetrated by he

who can see beyond imperfection, to me.

The journey back is walked alone

and every day is a fight.

to find that little piece of life

where you're perfect in another's eyes

and no judgmental words are spoken

and his hands hold you tightly

to lead you to the light.

New Book - Kissing Frogs

Once upon a time there was a princess.  She did all the things princesses do, went to school, made friends, fell in love with unobtainable pop stars and dreamt of expensive weddings.  Then one day while walking by a pond a frog hopped out and pestered her to kiss it.  This she did and it turned into a prince.  Marriage followed but she didn't live happily ever after for the prince was cruel and cold-hearted.  She lost everything dear to her - friends, money, possessions and freedom.  Punished both physically and mentally for daring to try and interact with the outside world she gave up. Then one day,  her fairy godmother appeared and brought her back from the edge.  She taught her that her experiences were valuable and could be used to teach others.....
Kissing Frogs is a fairytale about domestic abuse, and not for the faint hearted ....

Available now on Amazon or as a download to Kindle.  Also free on Kindle Unlimited.

Arms of Orion - a poem

In winter skies Orion smiled
Down on me as a child.
He beckoned us to look beyond
The boundaries of this world.
To solar systems far away
Where heroes fought and dragons lay.
With possibilities they might just
Look to Earth and discover us.
With our heroes from above
We fell into an innocent love.
Happiness filled those magical days
Until we reached a certain age.

Come down out of the stars they said
The world's down here not in your head.
Put those childish dreams away
In the adult world you must stay.
Work and marriage that's for you
A house and a child or two.
But we were young, we didn't know
Sometimes love brings broken bones
We were smashed beyond repair
What we married didn't care.
Life shattered, dreams all gone
From universe to isolation.

In winter skies Orion cried
The day dreams and magic died.
He could only watch from space
Until the time we escaped.
Now I sleep peacefully in my bed
Orion slumbers overhead
And in dreams I'm free to wander far
To a universe full of battlestars.

Mametz Wood - a poem

The Welsh at Mametz Wood by Christopher Williams 1918

A couple of weeks ago I watched a programme about  Welsh soldiers who fought at Mametz Wood in July 1916.  It was really engrossing and unbelievable to think that many of them had never fired a gun and had  been training with broomsticks before being thrown in to face professional German soldiers.  Anyway, I started researching more and wrote this.

Mametz

She greets me by a shell ridden tree

On a carpet of splinters where flowers should be

By a blood filled pond where the dead blindly stare

And the pain of my forefathers hangs in the air.

Queen of the woods she takes my hand

Walks me round this haunted land

Points at barbed wire where bodies are hung

And bullets are flying to slaughter the young.

A steel grey landscape cradles streams of blood

The hands of corpses reach out from the mud

"What is this?" I hear a voice say

I have no answer, I'm generations away.

Branches crash, a million splinters sting

the children forced to fight the lightening.

With faces grimaced they fall to their knees

While she crowns them with a wreath of weeds.

For here they lie, she tells me now

Til the ground is churned by the blade of a plough.

And guardians of history dig where they stood

To reveal the truth of Mametz Wood.

So take this vision to your waking world

Let them feel our pain in your every word

Our spirits may sleep but restless we lie

Til our questions answered.  Why? Why? Why?

copyright 2016 carol ann lewis

Poet of Pontypool entry 2016

My entry for the Poet of Pontypool 2016.  It was awarded a Highly Commended certificate :)

Streets of Pontypool

Tell me your stories, spirit of old

From your sepia photo that my hands hold.

Give me a glimpse of times that have been

A history I seek that your eyes have seen.

How I would love to wander where

Gas lights flicker in the dull evening air.

Every brick and stone with a tale to tell

Of triumph, achievement or personal hell.

What kind of people would I come to know?

If I walked along Pontypool's ancient roads.

Boys in flat caps lurking in doorways.

Ladies in bonnets riding in carriages.

Horses trotting on the dust filled streets

In the market the smells of hanging raw meat.

Traders bartering while wives buy supplies

For men returning from work in the mines.

Shops, pubs and houses, I'd visit them all

Then watch local singers at the Town Hall

Park House and gardens, I'd love to see

How it looked when inhabited by the Hanbury Leighs.

Busy salesmen who stop for a spell

Of hospitality at the Crown Hotel.

Then a few steps from there, just because I can

I'd visit the home of my great great gran.

Spirit of old, I stand in the spot

Where you were captured forever in this sepia shot.

Time divides us but I see all around

Through my eyes and yours our lovely old town.