Susan Alldred Lugton
Biography of Susan Alldred Lugton
'lets just cut to the chase' I write poems when I feel like it usually quickly. Hope you like some of them, or at least they touch something inside you If I have done that there must be a point to some of my ramblings.
As a psychologist and a woman in middle age I write from personal experience and professional work. I hear the best and the worst, rarely the middle ground But thats life, the ying and the yang. The main thing is to remain creative and poetry is something I always come back to. Somehow it expresses and heals the soul and sometimes the heart. It keeps me learning about myself. I live in Nelson New Zealand. A nice sunny little town with lots of nationalities English American Dutch and of course New Zealanders who have lived here all there lives and we all know what that means
Susan Alldred Lugton's Works:
Published articles only Susan Alldred-Lugton under Yahoo Website www.alldredlugtonsusan.co.nz
Susan Alldred Lugton Poems
Sleep Oh Blessed Sleep
Sleep oh blessed sleep, the place where I can dream, of all that I do need
Grief, the resounding echo to one’s new reality. Existing in time,
They came together in love, chrystallised genes. They did not know, that a baby might grow
Risking My Soul
If I dared to let someone in perhaps it might damage my soul. My fear, would I then be whole? I muse a little, but who knows,
Phantasy And Imagination By (Ted Hughes)
He loved her and she loved him, His kisses sucked out her whole past and future or tried to He had no other appetite She bit him, she gnawed him she sucked
A decision made after long years of doubt. Killed off inside. life’s pleasures locked out.
Their Little Girl
She waved her tiny hand that day, and went outside to play. As darkness came and chill set in, they could not hear her footsteps say
The New Morality Its Called Infidelity
The new morality, It's called infidelity. Sex just a commodity, universal disloyalty.
Cursed Shame Reviewed
Shame, that cursed killing shame, cascading into flooding tears. Feelings, is it me to blame? Shame, the knife that cuts, that sears.
So Much For Chemistry
Chemistry learned at school, with the bunsen burner. Then appeared a new rule, a new type of burner.
Shame, that cursed killing shame, cascading into flooding tears. Feelings, it is me to blame. shame, the knife, cutting that sears.
The Best Place To Play
The best space to play is in one's own mind, that curious place where we all can say
I Dream Of Fairies
I dream of fairies When I'm about to shatter. I dream of fairies, for they tell me I matter.
Competitiveness; the bane of our own existence. When we let it go, and we really know who we are,
Their Little Girl
She waved her tiny hand that day,
and went outside to play.
As darkness came and chill set in,
they could not hear her footsteps say
I'm home again please let me in.
They waited till the morn that May.
that sad and lonely day.
No sign of that loved little girl,