Biography of Helen Wilson
Poetry -such a powerful way to explore life's complexities, and to revel in its simplicity. Love it!
Helen Wilson Poems
Hollow Hearts (Monday Morning)
Heart groping a hollow chamber, Conscious of what is not, Taking stock of what is: Despair? Absent.
Pink petals pouting prettily Upon a slender stem. Polished, perky petals with a Neatly scalloped hem.
The Monster Within
An amorphous monster lurks within Hidden from your view. I used to think it lurked without In ‘him’ or ‘her’ or ‘you’.
Wake. Depart. Car doors slam. Children pile out.
Adrift, Sea tossed and salted, Wind whipped and stranded on a bed of self doubt. Festooned with crispy nerve weed
How Do You Do?
How-do-you-do, It? It with a capital I. I’ve been longing so to meet you, Now I wonder why.
He wasn’t handsome; He didn’t look smart. He didn’t seem wealthy. He walked without art.
What is it? Waiting in the wings; Watching warily, wearily; Always present, always silent. A shadow yet untamed, unnamed;
Alarm bells ring; rats are racing, Dressing, eating, children-chasing, Driving, talking, fixing, bunching, Meeting, typing, number crunching.
Rainbows transform Angry sky to revelation; Highway to hope-lined avenue; Ordinary day to the dawn of time.
A lizard ironed onto a rock, Lissom limbs loaded With cells that feel the earth’s pulse beat… Lazy lizard; goaded.
A lizard ironed onto a rock,
Lissom limbs loaded
With cells that feel the earth’s pulse beat…
Lazy lizard; goaded.
Not so, the wise among you say –
Laud the lizard’s languor,
For he takes time to hear the quiet;
He does not act in anger.