YouTube Tuesday: Death in the Summer

Well, I’ve been away for a couple of days, super busy with the 50th Spring Symposium of Byzantine Studies at the University of Birmingham. The Symposium was fantastic, I got to see some great papers and meet some inspiring academics.

12 hour days of volunteering now over, it’s time for another YouTube Tuesday. Here’s Death in the Summer.

Death in the Summer

Icicles hanging in rows from the ceiling
Dripping freezing water onto the tiles
Until a pool that chills me forms below

It’s summer outside; inside winter reigns
Where heat cannot penetrate, and water drips
Though the icicles refuse to melt away

Children play merry games of chase in the playground
Parents bask in the midday sun with lazy abandon
And there is frost around me in this frozen wasteland

Smiles should ease the harshness of this storm
Should, a word on which to focus all attention
But still those icicles drip water onto the tiles

The kitchen is abandoned to another dimension
Where this bleak wilderness has not taken control
Nor the universe agreed upon my icy tomb

The tiles were the final place you laid your head

INSPIRATION CALL: Holiday Photo Writing Challenge

Here’s a great writing challenge – perfect for this time of year.

Creative Talents Unleashed


INSPIRATION CALL: Holiday Photo Writing Challenge
Use the photo below as inspiration to write a poem or short story with the theme: HOPE

Get Creative at

View original post

No Winter Blues for Me


The call of home drew many in the winter,
Beckoning with snow and home comforts;
It was a season of changes and upheaval.
They pondered for hours over their options,
Then packed their bags and bid the rest of us
Farewell, some for a month and some for good,
Weighed down with gifts to lavish friends
And family with trinkets they were proud to carry;
Others came at New Year, seeking fresh adventure,
Seduced by the idea of travel at a time
They associated with beginnings and resolutions;
And some found new homes and new jobs
Without leaving the taste of their venture behind,
New employers offering them delightful wages
To fill their pockets – after longer hours and
Harder lessons; still some of us remained behind,
Perhaps loyal, or perhaps foolishly devoted
To the company that first gave us work in Vietnam
And breathed life into our imaginations.

Those we lost were missed, a hole left behind
That could not be filled; as they went the new arrivals,
Who replaced our co-workers and friends with
Their own outrageous personalities, were no less
Welcomed than their predecessors, no less
Our family than anyone else had ever been.
They came from England, Scotland, Wales,
From Europe and America, all of them with
Wide eyes that reminded us of our first day there;
We became the elders, and so we pretended
To know Vietnam; we assured them that their
Worries and their longing for home would fade
Away in time, once they settled here with us.
I marvelled, quite astounded, that in winter
My home did not holler and tempt me.

© Laura Marie Clark

Excerpt from the book “City Of The World”

Please visit my author page and share in my adventure:

Winter Beauty Poem

A lovely poem about winter. I prefer to see it through a window myself, rather than go outside in the cold!

poems and short stories

winter 2016 January 10th storm (4)

Winter Beauty Poem

Chilling beauty seeps in

sun hides behind a thin veil

blast of cold whistles

Through limbs

Yet beauty is within

Each heart which seeks

the light of life

snow angles sing

children’s laughter it brings

wet socks and gloves

hot chocolate mustaches

squeals of love

Children have grown

moving away

Mother and father

wish they could stay

life of their own they say

Yet love abounds

Winter chill fills the air

Wish the sun could appear

Suns glow brings out the snow

Gold dust twinkles will show

Chilling beauty seeps in

Once again sun hides behind a thin veil

Waiting to tell another tale.

View original post

Bad Weather Joy

I am thankful for the rain,
Though it pelts down from the sky
And the streets are filled
With people huddled near shop windows
Trying to escape the droplets
Threatening to ruin their hairstyles;
Though the thunder shakes me
To the core when it catches me off guard,
I worship it like no other,
Even when it causes a stir, the dogs
To howl and my hair to stand on end;
Though here there is no such thing
As a day too wet to go to work,
I am thankful for the bad weather
That we get outside our windows,
Drowning the streets in water.
As the first people prayed for
The Heavens to open, and to pour
Life-giving water onto their crops,
And to fill their empty rivers,
So I look to the sky to seek out the rain;
More personal to them than me, perhaps –
My life does not depend on rain –
But no less important when
The intolerable heat takes over.
There is no inconvenience in my rain,
No hiding under umbrellas or hoods
Oh no, I cheer: the world never seems
Dark when it cries with me.