SNEAK PEEK - A Little Look at 3 Works in Progress

There is something about writing beneath an open sky that S P Clark has always found inspiring. Whether sitting in a park, beneath the shelter of trees or simply listening to the sounds of nature, he often discovers that the outside world creates the space for thoughts and emotions to surface in unexpected ways.

The three poems below are all works in progress, written during quiet moments spent outdoors. They capture fleeting emotions and observations that arrived while surrounded by nature, where the movement of leaves, changing light and simple stillness often become part of the creative process. Shared here in their unfinished form, they offer a glimpse into poems that are still finding their final shape.

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Feather

A feather landed on my shoulder as I sat crying in the park,

Wasting my time alone in the dark.

Suddenly I felt his warm embrace,

In the strands of the feather I saw his face.

It was like he was with me once again,

Wish he could visit me now and then.

He would remind me of who I used to be,

Someone with hope who saw all the good in me.

The feather then flew off into the night sky,

Showing me the possibilities I’d forgotten to try.

For a moment all the pain went from my head,

Relieved me of all the hurtful things they said.

Taking away the weight and the strain,

The feather brought sunshine into my rain.

I chased the feather with newly enlightened eyes,

Scared of saying yet more goodbyes.

I caught that feather and held it to my heart,

It helped me believe this wasn’t the end, it was the start.

But I crushed it within the grip of my hand,

Just another thing that didn’t work out as planned.

Now I’m crying in the park with nobody in sight,

That feather was my last glimpse of hopeful light.

---

Tears

My teardrops filled a teacup and my pain spilled on the saucer,

I used the spoon to mix them up,

Now my tears form a river and my pain is a tributary of hell.

---

My Story Ends

I can hear the laughter but I can’t join in,

In my own head there’s too much noise,

Even when I try, I’m so angry that I just can’t win,

And as I lose, I lose all my joys.

And as I write down my thoughts here on this page,

The words flow out but leave me cold,

Even in the freedom of nature, I’m trapped in my cage,

And I can’t buy the future I’m sold.

I know I should feel strong but I feel much less,

Aching for love with a scarred heart,

Even when I let them in, terrified of their caress,

And can’t move on, don't know how to start.

Want to run away but I can’t pay the fare,

Hiding alone but yearn for friends,

Even in company, I’ve developed a vacant stare,

Worried this is how my story ends.

© S P Clark