Biography of Hannah Barham
Born over two decades ago, Hannah lives in a rural part of Hampshire, UK, and attends university in Winchester. She reads too much, works too hard and loves too easily. Her poetry is mainly inspired by her relationships, but some is inspired by the people she meets and experiences she had as she travels through life.
Hannah Barham Poems
If I Told You I Love You
If I told you I love you What would you think? Would you say you love me too? Or that we're too young?
Oh to be Enamoured with the idea Of love To risk the heart upon a fall
When I Look Upon The Graves
When I look upon the graves Of those who fell before Neat, bland rectangles Of yellow and weathered stone
And here I sit, alone again in the pouring rain. I know this is the path I chose I know that this is what you want.
And Death Seems The Only Way Out
And death seems the only way out When hope fades And life is hard to bear; The razor is the only friend,
Tell Me You Love Me
I barely know you But I miss you When I don't see you When my phone doesn't vibrate with a text from you
Cool Spring breezes caress Sun-kissed cheeks As song-birds sing In early March sunshine.
Night Falls Over Winchester - The View F...
I went up St Catherine's Hill with my best friend just as darkness was falling. Watching the city lights come on dotted across the hillside opposite us, compared with the drama of the darkening sky and the velvety blackness of the fields around us struck me, and this is the result. Eyes drift over nature's gentle twilight Calm darkness drops into valley and hollow
The imprint of your spine on my skin. The scent of you lingers on the sheets.
For Ben (Written On A Till Receipt)
It's five to nine on a Saturday night. I'm at work - an hour to go! - and you're at your dad's. I'm thinking of us -
Myriad Grains Of Hurt
My world was ended the day My heart was shattered And shards of love were crushed To myriad, myriad grains of hurt.
And Once Again My Dreams Take Flight
And once again my dreams take flight A light heart on strong wings Of love. My eyes close - your image dances
You know I'm sorry For everything I did Every mistake I made Every muddled conversation.
A wolf went for a walk one day Through blossomed woods; the month was May Little did he think to find A troubled lass, of unsound mind.
Do you presume
To tell me how to feel?
You bitter hard-heart, you?
Who never felt
For anyone except
The self who lingered
And proclaimed to
Love - unreliable and lonely.
The self cannot love
Other than the self.