Author Archives: primaryteachew

You never know what someone

is hiding behind their smile;

the bright clothes that disguise

a darker, troubled soul;

a laughter that invites happiness

but hides pain.

One of the worst things

Is getting your hopes up.

Only for them to be struck down

In the prime of their fleeting lives.

New romances that start

To b l o s s o m like a peony

Before dying

Days later

Despite the care and attention

You so hopefully gave it.

Friendships that begin

To be as s t r o n g as a rope

Not spotting

Those frayed ends

That slowly edge up

As you tie a knot, hopefully.

A new challenge arises

To e x h i l a r a t e the senses

Which then

Become overwhelmed

By the new mountain

You hopefully ascend.

A new day dawns

And you still rise from your bed

To face it all.

Full of hope.

Hopefully.

They can line your pocket and be with you every day,
Ready to withdraw,
In a conversation,
To drop into your daily dose of discussion,
A reminder of times gone by. Sometimes better times,
Occasionally, those times are worse.

But they’re still memories. They’re still owned by you to use.

Sometimes, you find them tucked away, 
Like a lucky penny down the side of a sofa.
Others are stored like treasure,
Precious jewels to be displayed on special occasions.

No matter the memory,
Sharing them makes them greater.
A memory that starts with a dull glow becomes golden as you bask in its beauty.

Today, we can all share our own memories of a woman who wore many different guises. 

A mother.

A grandma. 

A friend. 

Each memory will flourish, weaving itself between us all.
A connection you need to keep her with you in your mind.
A piece of a woman we all loved, being kept alive in our faces, our minds, our souls.

Forever in our hearts.

Always in our memories.

When I visit Grandma, 

She lets me get away, 

With all the things my parents won’t, 

Each and every day.

I eat ice cream for breakfast, 

And chocolates for a snack, 

She lets me pick just what I want, 

From supermarket racks. 

When I go and visit Grandma, 

She buys me lots of things, 

I try and tell her not to, 

But she sees the joy it brings. 

She buys me lots of clothes

And takes me out for dinner

She even books my favourite place

Every visit, I’m a winner. 

When I go and visit Grandma, 

I don’t expect all that

It’s nice to get some treats, 

But I’d much rather the chat. 

For its her time I most enjoy, 

Her house a second home, 

Somewhere I’m always welcome, 

No matter how far I roam.

I sit in my classroom

Watching the clock as seconds

t 

i 

c 

k 

On by. 

Time is moving slower.

I watch out the window instead. 

Procrastinating. 

Two birds fly past 

And perch on the beams 

Chirping to each other

Probably not talking about maths

Free to fly away

To wherever they want to be. 

While I have to stay in this classroom

Watching the clock as the seconds

t 

i 

c 

k 

On by.

One of the worst things
is getting your hopes up,
only for them to be struck down
in the prime of their fleeting lives.

New romances that start
to b l o s s o m like a peony
before dying
days later
despite the care and attention
you so hopefully gave it.

Friendships that begin
To be as s t r o n g as rope
without you spotting
the frayed ends
that slowly edge up
as you hopefully begin
to tie a knot.

New jobs offer promise
to help you s o a r like an eagle
but they don’t even help
you learn how to fly
before pushing you
over the edge you hopefully
look over.

Yet still, hope is held in our heart
always burning
however small
however big;
a flame within your
soul.

You sit with time on your hands,
Watching the hands of the clock,
Knowing your procrastination
Means you’re overthinking.

You sit thinking thoughts
Negative in their nature; their soul.
You know they probably aren’t true
Yet still they sit in your brain.

Stirring up Trouble,
Prompting Self-doubt,
Laughing at Logic,
Mocking Confidence.

Playing on your mind
Unable to be voiced,
Because you know the answer is:
‘You know it’s not true!’

But you don’t, do you?

A sudden lurch
before you feel the shadow,
which should be light as a feather,
weigh as heavy as the world
on your shoulders.

You shake and shrug
but still it does not move,
instead settling down further
resisting your attempts
to move it on.

Others walk past,
unable to see it.
Instead, just seeing the smile
that distracts them from your cloak.

They walk on.
But look back,
sensing its presence.

We take a pause
And bow our heads,
To remember those
Who gave their lives
For us.

Wars gone by;
Wars that still rage.
Soldiers from near;
Soldiers from afar.
Who give their lives,
For us.

A moment of silence
On a single day?
Or a lifetime of living,
Grateful for the gift we got
When they have their lives,
For us.

You sit with time on your hands

Watching the hands on the clock

Knowing your procrastination

Means you’re overthinking

You sit thinking thoughts

Negative in their nature; their soul

You know they probably aren’t true

Yet still they sit in your brain

Stirring up Trouble

Prompting Self-doubt

Laughing at Logic

Mocking Confidence

Playing on your mind

Unable to be voiced

Because you know the answer is

‘You know that’s not true!’

But you don’t, do you?