My Poetry

journey lines : no map of me

My PoetryEllie BeckComment

journey lines, 
there's no map of me.
I'm unexplored, undiscovered.
I'm foreign, lost to those who fear the unknown or the wrong way, the difficult path. 

I'm hard. I'm challenging.
But I won't alter or sway or bend. 
I won't.

Just so someone can reach me.

You have to want to try to know me. 
And be prepared for hardness.

There's beauty, but there's harsh & wild as well.

If you can't be with the wild, or cope with the harsh,
you lose the beauty.

The whole soul. 

A sail of colour

My PoetryEllie BeckComment

I took my thread & a sail of colour,

Stitch by stitch I reminded myself

how to breathe again.

Across the wild sea of life,

The storms of parenting.


My sail of colour, my silver mast & the wind whipping through the threads.

Until I patched the holes worn ragged,

And made it home in time for tea

And a cloth to lay my head.