NaNoWriMo

National Novel Writing month

I started this month in wales on a writing retreat. I have spent that time writing poetry finding inspiration through the beautiful grounds and interior of the house, the hungover coach journey there, my university friends changing my accent and their antics. It was a jam packed couple of days and since I've gotten back along side trying to work on one of my novel ideas this month, university work, reading, work and travel. Here is the start of something, it wont always be good, it wont always be consistent in length or sense but it will be something, everyday of November.

November 1st - Location: Gregynog, Wales

Observations

The doorway down the stairs

a place where kids would go in fear and in dare

cupboards that creaked and walls that screeched as you run by

A chest carved intricate with brass - the sleek, dark oak wood ornamental at most

but the lock left a haunting chill of ancient and born-new

The tap leaks an eery drip ... drip.

large gaping floorboards echo down the corridor, above floors sink beneath the steps that you daren't make

Frosty air against worn skin, wind, leaves, stone steps and muddy steeps. Colours dipped and mismatched. It shouldn't work but it's all the more golden hue

The hall, the grounds, the ghosts and all it surrounds. Trapped in an ever infinite expanse of refreshed and reborn time. Refusing. Thriving.

November 2nd - Location: Gregynog, Wales

Painting of the Lady with No Face

Version 1

The sun, the sea and the sky

The storm beneath her eyes

Outraged from being tossed to the side

She's down a hall not on show to all

She a filler.

The lady with no face and no lies

Seagulls raised to arms below her shoulders she called a storm

Such elegance held in her form

The moss daren't stain her white silk skirt

The salty air breathes through her to comfort her hurt

Peachy blouse, tanned skin the poster girl, no more perfect could she be

The lady down a hall pines, not cries

She was so uncared for she has no face no lies

Version 2

She had many admirers in her time

Who lust for the space between her thighs

The artist even took the time to paint the way she made the world wild

Her hair, her breasts, her angles, all perfect lines curved

But time ran out as did the lust in their eyes

Days rolled into years

Seconds lent to miles

The lady on the rock let the storm take her away

The salt silk sea cared more than they ever did

The sand caressed, cared how she felt

The gulls took up the defence

Time ran out

He didn't have time or the chance to even change

The chance to even paint the lady a face

November 3rd - Location: Grandparents House, England

Autumn is calling

Autumn is calling

Her colours bursting, her cheeks blushing

Her spine aching, twisting, braking

Her life changing, soul making

Autumn is calling

Her breath chilling, willing you home

Her arms soothing, familiar, glowing

Her flavour melting in your mouth - amazing

Autumn is calling

Her eyes calming

Her heart palpitating

Her mind raging

Autumn is calling

Warm mugs caressed by fires

lovers in sheets tangled. Content desire

Socks, silks, serenades

Soft, kiss, mist

candlelight, midnight

Autumn is calling

November 4th - Location: Home, England

Untitled

Your smile's like butterscotch

Warm.

Sweet.

Wholesome.

Devine.

A luxury to find

One like you

I'm just waiting for it to be

Too good to be true