“Ode To Yesterdays Angel.” ~ Poem + Poem in Film By K.S Blackmore

Picture the scene – your in a job you actually love, it’s enjoyable, and it feels like your calling, this perfect job you’ve been doing for some years now….. then one morning it’s gone, just like that! Perhaps the first thing you would do call home, phone mum in despair for help & advice ….. Or Maybe realise deep down it’s not the end of the world……?!
Well for me it was – there was no phone call home, or a visit to mum for a cuppa and chat. For that amazing job involved mum, – I was a carer, I was my mums carer. – Five years of being by my mums side through thick and thin, tears and laughter and more laughter and tears. Watching (bowel) cancer slowly take mum (aged 63) away from me.
The shock wave the morning after mums passing and the realisation hits in two life changing blows – mother- less and made redundant (care no longer needed), still hurts now (year and a bit later – a Little TLC needed for the ex-carer would of helped me).
– No one prepares you for that day, be it the person gone or the job that you learnt on the spot, and even the fiance aspect of it.
The whole world that you lived and breathed 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, on call no matter the time – no walking out the door just ‘coz i fancied a day of! – Snatched away, with the feeling of being left in the middle of a ocean, struggling to stay afloat. – A angel mum to often called me, now that Angel starts falling…… through no-ones fault, just the way life turned.
But every angel deserves to be caught
~ This poem sums up the first couple of days or so after that life-changing event (more-so the no longer caring side)

Ode To Yesterdays Angel.
Tears into a twinkle, a twinkle into tears bursting,
From eyes that miss the rainbow surfed.
Walls of blue weathered in yesterdays echoes
This haunt wiped a home as dust settles.
No footsteps came, no footsteps goes
Chatter muted, notes taken, stand-stilling.
Scarce of breath that play stopped,
In silence hit, silence drowns, silence welcomed.

To embers etched in stale crumbs, in cold cups, sheets pulled,
Pills un-swolled, petals stained.
A house colding, lone company, no breathes.
A hand freezing, a hand yawning, hands bereaved.
Surplus to needs the badge unpinned
Passed return, in ashes smouldering
Heart-burnt in yesterdays love ceased.
This tree uprooted, as winter settles
Only ticking clocks haunt in this furrow ploughed.
At peace, – unmasking battle scarring
From the label striped.


Yesterdays angel
– This mourning a angel falling….


Q ~ Have you experienced becoming a falling angel, a yesterdays carer?
Please share your thoughts and how you come through the experience, how you managed to move on, what you done next, Advice, help ?

~ Please Comment (click link above ⤴️)

#fallingangel

“March.” ~ Poem + Poem in Film By K.S Blackmore

When winter starts to tail of and March with a feeling of Spring like peeps in the window befriending us all….. inspired this poem…..
Spring is in the air – yay

March.

Is Winter dispersed till the calendar ends?
Through windows unlatched Spring befriends.
The bore of snowdrops and trees penned,
In sepia last season now rended.
The chain released and the lock descends,
The alarm trends and starlight ascends
With the slumber party ending
Turns day light dreaming
Ears re-tune and life`s re-tuning
On washing lines spilling.
Crumbs thrown, the cake tin refilling
Romance recites in gardens singing.
The black and white still turn lullaby
In a patch work of pastels untie,
Crocus and daffodils and cherry blossom high,
Brimstone butterfly and the wild roses untie
With a warming embrace March befriends.

~ Q – What of March befriends you…..?
(comment below)

#marchbefriends

– For me the sight of a daffodil, alone or in a clump

“Ode To Ruby.” ~ Poem + Poem in Film By K.S Blackmore

A poem I penned thanking my choc labrador “Ruby” for giving me a reason to wake up each day, after the death of my mum (being her carer was a double blow for me to face – my mum gone and my job gone too). Ruby as this look she gives me – head tilted and a deep look in her eyes (- I feel she feels my pain) and this poem came to me…..
Thanks Ruby (my fur angel) this ones for you X 🙂 …..

Ode To Ruby.

A rainbow in fur befell my way,
`Coz with you there is no grey.
– A angel portray,
In that face with eyes that say.
Wipes a grin across the mood each day,
So much patience’s drifts sorrow away
Shelters me before tears out-weigh.
Get me up for-noon, no lay!
Lead me out the door aweigh,
Where the blue skies convey
And rays of sun light spray
Spare me, before cloud survey.
Your tail not once does grey,
`Coz with you there is no grey
A rainbow in fur befell my way.

~ K.S Blackmore

~ Q – Has your dog become your angel…..?
(comment below)
#dogangel

“Ode To Milk Flower*.” {*Snow Drop} ~ Poem + Poem in Film By K.S Blackmore

January’s first sight of a milk flower inspired this poem….
Before the last Snow Drop melts……

Ode To Milk Flower.

In this grave of Jan a welcome sight,
Site of sorrow yields bright
Hold faith for the year show-light
Starlight gazing in this dead-light,
Delicate beads spilling white
The years first tender bite
Drawn up through earth tight
Angels drawn in earths night
Flirting in Winters unloving bite…..
Milk Flower emerges in sight!


~ K.S Blackmore

Q ~ What does the sight of snowdrops bring to you….?

#milkflower

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“Oh Winter.” ~ Poem + Poem in film By K.S Blackmore

Sat in the car one November Saturday afternoon ~ a typical Winters afternoon – freezing, pouring down with rain and bleak, this poem came to me…..

Oh Winter.

Oh Winter,
And now you prevail merely a beginning,
And already I`m disheartening.
You are not Summer or Spring romancing
And even Autumn I keep in holding.

Oh Winter,
You descend promise-less,
You descend a lock key-less.
A charmless gift that lingers impatience-less,
Untied in dried grass dreamless,
In aromas of bitterness,
From the baked sun of June`s end amiss

Oh Winter,
Do not let earth walk in sleep,
For I`m helpless in weeping,
With flora absent, few creatures peeping,
In this contemplation before me, Winter a sweep.
No hue left, does seep,
To ease these long drawn short days steeped
A negative of seasons reaped.

Oh Winter,
In this January day in brown,
How will I stir, when morning light in frown?
Un-ascending till lunch touch-down.
And all I sight is scare and brown,
In this cupboard bare-down.

Oh Winter,
You are not ones season of best!
I become bluer still with dark-some, rested,
Before me and more-so unblessed,
In these days of night, frozen of zest.
The heart freezing still under-vest.

Oh Winter,
You cast the canvas white,
Each solum morn light.
Blowing feather and fur a brutal breath bite,
Leaving tiny beats a mountain plight.
As I`m earthed beside a burning timber light,
Not prevailing till daffodils in sight.

Oh Winter.

~ By K.S Blackmore

Does Winter make you sigh….. ?

#ohwinter

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