So here we stand on the verge of another lockdown, and depending which cabinet minister you believe it’s a month or until next year!

But it’s also November and thus nanowrimo time. This year I’m being ridiculous and doing three things at once. Maybe four. So I have a main doc with all of the days writing in and three separate ones for each story.

The main one as pictured above is Firebird. It’s a historical, well 1920’s ish and I’m having fun with it. Centered around Ben and Anne and rather a fiery start to their life together.

Alongside that is the expansion of The House That Jack Built – a Zander/Isabel story, and the first draft of Maelstrom 3: Phoenix in the Mist.

But for now you can have a poem. Yes, I’m also doing NovPAD – November poem a day. This reminded me of one I wrote a few years ago. I tweaked it and changed the date at the bottom. The photo isn’t mine, I found it online but it is perfect. The prompt was to write two poems and then smash them together to form one.

Always looking on the bright side of darkness and betrayal.

The sun shines on the lies and deceit that define her.

The silver lining on the clouds defy her, she hates them for it.

Never angry, always smiling, repulsiveness seeps into every part of her

Beauty pours from her, reflected in the ugliness which is her face.

She does chores with a smile, everything an effort, waste of time

A song in her heart brings joy, as she does everything over and over.

Nothing too hard or impossible, just endless, nothing gained only lost

Every mountain is over come with love, unwanted, unneeded and unloved

Joy and laughter lightens her day. Shades of grey, murky, nothing matters

Colours and light and hope, no beauty all her days are coloured black

Never a cross word to get her down, she is just a dark empty shell

She soars high on the eagles wings, sitting there in the dark, alone

Higher and higher she flies, falling endlessly down into death

Until she can almost touch heaven from which there is no return

Today is a good day, a day meant for mocking laugher, evil whispers

Living and sunshine and rainbows, and no escape from the

Hope everlasting she has never ending darkness, trapped, never loved

The song in her heart always there is a gaping unfilled void

Knowing deep down she is loved, alone and unloved she waits for death.

© Clare Revell 2020