I see the hill to a hard road ahead
Slippery climb through earth
Wet, sliding and falling
Hit the ground, teeth grinding
Against pain as I force myself on
Enduring to win and take back
My power , my path.
©️AilsaCawleyPoetry 2020
Author: ailsacawley
I have written since I can remember, devouring the stories of Roald Dahl under the covers by torchlight. I have always loved fairy tales, myths and magic.
A good deal of the things I write has some truth in it. Others, not.
I’m pleased you dropped by, please feel free to leave me a comment or if you’re kind enough to share that’s fine. ☺️
Dr Butler
He preens in preparation
For the next adoring patient
That will bow and scrape
At his little polished feet
His moustache waxed in exact points
Pudgy flesh over stubby joints
He sees it a necessity
Definitely not a vanity
To have the latest silken cravat
Hiding from the public his newfangled
Words set to confuse the people of the day
As he sticks out his chin indignantly
And waits for you to pay
Ailsa
©️AilsaCawleyPoetry2020
Ekphrastic challenge with Paul brookes at wombwell rainbow
Apparition
Apparition
I see you standing on the stair
Feel the chill that takes the air
Cold fingers run down my spine
Like the nail trails a line
I see you standing at the door
Watch you standing evermore
The touch familiar on my back
My mind is beginning to crack
I’ve seen you daily for so long
I no longer think that something’s wrong
Accepted that you are dwelling there
The space is large enough to share
Do I see the features,? you have enquired
Is it something all in your mind
I have accepted that this apparition
Has passed the life and death transition
I wander out to see the sun
To tell myself that you are gone
I turn to see you behind the pane
Window steams from your breath again
©️AilsaCawleyPoetry2020
Ekphrastic challenge November with Paul Brookes @PaulDragonWolf1 thewombwellrainbow
Learning to have peace
I came to the island a city lass
Something clicked and moved
Into a place
An empty space
I didn’t know was there
But I started learning
Some said the island hooked me
But it didn’t hurt
More like wrapped in nana’s arms
Being told I’d found my peace
With vast seas and
Seas that crash or whisper
I kept learning
Many scoffed at this silly dream
After all it’s life on an island
Things are slower here
Because everyone knows
That to hurry makes you deaf
To nature’s teachings
And you never stop learning
Never stop learning.
©️AilsaCawleyPoetry2020
Do you see me?
Do you see me, really?
Not who you want me to be
Or think I should be
Would be if I shaved my edges off
So you could see what you want
And I would be what you’ve desired
All these years your vision skewed
Have you ever once seen me?
Looked at me closely without distaste
Because I’m not who you envisioned I’d be
When you first started pushing, pulling at me
Trying to remove my awkwardness
Angry that what was there wasn’t desirable
I’ve noticed you still trying to cut
Little bits off when you think nobody sees
But here’s the thing
Even those who don’t know you have it
The vision to go beneath your veneer
They see you too and you’re blind to it.
Ailsa
©️AilsaCawleyPoetry2020
The woman of the hill
She lived there alone, but not lonely in her home on the hill.
It was nothing fancy, no frills adorned the door. Only the old Rowan tree that curved over it.
Her years seemed to have gone on forever and she knew that one day soon, they would, as with every other creature end. People named her the wise woman and it was not her wish. For names held power, or danger, depending on whose hands held them and whose mouths spoke them.
Few words passed old Elspeth’s lips. Morning greetings, or asking after someone’s health, an offer of a prayer for the return to health or a painless end to their life. A blessing offered for a newborn. The same as any other person in the village did.
The difference was Elspeth lived outside the village. Elspeth lived alone. Elspeth was a woman.
Her garden bloomed with flowers and vegetables , herbs and berries. She grew as much as she could because she liked it that way. Her life was a life lived for many years alone.
She had lived as a young woman and lost both child and husband in quick succession. She had dug the graves herself, being without family or friends willing to help her. Elspeth had been alone many years and was content in her own company. Safe in her solitude, she’d thought.
Until now.
Only today a man in a tall hat had sat astride a horse, calling her outside in the howling wind to answer questions of a curse she’d supposedly uttered over a child.
She stood tall. Told him she’d uttered no curse over any child and had said she hoped the child was blessed.
He spat at her, saying that the child was gravely ill and he’d been called to investigate the possibility of her witchcraft. As he left he disdainfully called her Cailleach and spat in her face, hissing he’d be back for her. Sooner or later.
She went inside her home, closed the door and for the first time, bolted it. Her anger and fear made her shake.
As she went to bed she knew one thing, she had to be careful as the man wanted to come back. He was afraid of her. Fear made men act strangely.
©️AilsaCawley2020
Artful
Hiding always hiding the skills inbred
Because they don’t pay the rent
Words, paint and music not for us
Learn the practical stuff
And get a nod of acceptance
If you’re different we’re afraid of you
But we won’t say as that would encourage
What we term your airy fairy ways
And high falutin ideas of a better world
We learn to hide until the mask slips
Artistically artful and cunning
In our way of showing work until
We cannot hide any longer
Don’t care if anyone gets it or laughs
At our need to show ourselves in the open
So when you say you kept it quiet, think
Did you ever tell someone they had ideas
Above their station?
Did you help teach the artist to be artful?
Lightgiver
Teaching not preaching or leading
Words that said this was me
I can tell you how light is in everyday
Sun shining through a crack in curtains
The lightgiver taught me that
You don’t need baking sun
To warm a scared heart
You don’t need much of anything
To make a new or brighter start
Only one thing is necessary
A willingness for light to flood
As it washes away the dark
Ailsa
©️AilsaCawleyPoetry2020
The Son That Never Was
Spillwords.com presents: The Son That Never Was, poetry by Ailsa Cawley who writes about the world around her and lives on the Isle of Skye with her family.
Source: The Son That Never Was
This is not a poetry post but a Thank you
Today on the birthday of the NHS, it’s made me sit back and see exactly how much I’ve needed and used the NHS over my almost 50 years.
I’m not going to say I recall being born in an NHS hospital, though I was. My first proper memory was the NHS making something not done then possible. I was 11. My Grandad who was heroic to me, was in hospital. As was the case then, nobody said the word death to a child. Children didn’t visit hospitals, especially the dying, or go to funerals.
I’d picked up from conversations he wasn’t coming back. I needed to see. So I didn’t go to school. I went straight to the hospital. He demanded they allow me in. We talked, laughed, said our goodbyes. The nurses were fantastic, but without their agreement I’d never have said goodbye. In fact, I’m crying as I recall it today.
My next thing was finding out I am epileptic. I was 13 and I suddenly had a seizure in my bedroom. From then until I was roughly 18, I was mostly OK. I’d just started to see a fantastic neurologist, and the morning after my birthday, I was rushed into hospital. I’d been prescribed a wrong tablet dose. A mistake no doubt, from an underpaid overworked junior doctor. I was 10x overdosed. I was chuntering about leaving as my mum entered my room and the ambulance arrived after the doctor literally ran across from the surgery. I was lucky. Thanks to the NHS and their speed and care.
I was in hospital week in, week out for a long while and I’m talking years.
Then a good few years where I tried not to bother them!
They took care of me through pregnancy and then during post natal depression and depression.
I saw my dad having a spell in hospital after 5 heart bypasses when he thought he was having a double. It was just business as usual, we’re going to tell you everything. I can’t praise the staff more. My Dad has now sadly passed away, but we had him for many more years than would have been possible without these wonderful people. The people who care, in every sense. They understand how the patients feel and they’re there .
I’ve lost many family members over the years, as have we all. But if we were without the NHS, our NHS, I ask a simple question. How many of us would actually be here? Medicine doesn’t come cheap, hospital care is not cheap, and seriously having been on the nursing side, though not a nurse, I know how devastating losing a patient can be. How those people are taken home in worries and not forgotten about.
For all this and so much more. Thank you NHS. Happy Birthday NHS and here’s to many, many more.
ailsacawley 