JAE ROSE

Kiss

Prosery: Toni Morrison

The air outside the window is cold and crisp. It makes me catch my breath, like a small current of electricity. Waiting to awaken spirits and souls. There are memories. Moments captured in the glass but they come and go. Trouble one minute and then do no harm. Soon spring will come. There are daffodils already. Poking their way out of verges and patches of grass. A little dose of yellow. In the distance the fields are turning a deeper shade of green. The river rises and falls as well. The geese long since flown. The movement of the water is soothing, like a ticking clock. I hold my chin up. Let the air brush my skin. Perhaps there is a future after all. Something to find comfort in, to build upon. My body remembers how – but my lips forget what they have kissed. 

Love Poem

https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2026/02/friday-writings-214-love-love-glorious.html

I sit down at my window desk

Watching the branches bend and the leaves flutter like heart beats – your heart beats 

There is no garden in sight but the familiar concrete and bricks embraces me

They seem strong and stable 

Growing out of certain ground like a flower – 

Strong as thistles, soft as bluebells 

I lean into their touch

Now I have practised love I feel more equipped to love someone else again –

Someone real 

Love is not a resolution – it is about making choices

Some of these choices are made in error and excitement

As unwieldy to navigate like sitting in an upside down umbrella 

Riding down a mountain river – at which I laugh

Still, no looking back

There is enough love squashed inside my little soul-boat

It will propel me forward for a few more ripples and eddies to come

As long as I keep trying to love myself 

I’d Rather Go Blind

I reach out for your hand

Try and place it in my palm –

I know that your touch is real

I feel it -inside me

Knock three times, and enter

That makes her giggle

Even in the dark, with my eyes scrunched up tight

I can sense you are with me

A little light – one which I will find as long as I continue to let it burn 

It is strange – how anyone else would not be allowed to touch me

My body is mine, my thoughts are mine

I harvest my survival treasures

They feel cool and smooth

I can feel them – perhaps I don’t need to see them 

They are tiny pebbles in my pocket

Just touching them – making them smooth makes me smile –

I can carry something no one else will see.    

Flowers

Quadrille #241: Swearing by all Flowers  

I hold up a buttercup underneath her chin

Do you like butter – She giggles  –

I trust our love 

I smell lavender wrapped in a cloth underneath my pillow

I hope there will always be flowers

Gentle, glowing, earth stars –

A daisy bed of home. 

https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2026/02/friday-writings-213-pick-pair.html?sc=1770354131337#c1062355445009954625

I wiggle my fingers and toes, gentle movements

Which I thought I might not be able to do again

My flesh has been stolen (the thief was me)

But my spirit feels stronger

A flickering candle light always burning inside 

Which has no doubt carried me through my life 

Exactly as it does right now

I see the rowan tree, the owls and glowing moon 

Shining in the treacle-dark sky

Winter is fading and soon there will be brighter, longer days

As spring comes to us and offers us wishes and happiness –

Her face a bright yellow and white daisy 

Maybe if she comes to me again I can weave her a daisy chain 

I am beginning to make lists – tiny gambles

Learning to love things – simple things like the wind on my cheeks

Before I was largely full of indifference 

It didn’t matter if I lived or died

And so my fingers and toes tap a beat 

And I welcome it in and allow myself to smile. 

https://newwhatsgoingon.blogspot.com/2026/02/shelter.html

If I build a box around my heart will I feel safe

I imagine the box as dark brown wood with intricate carvings – patterns

Warm to the touch and readable

A substance that breathes and moves 

At times to swell and make room for love

At times to toughen up and protect me from dangers 

It takes work, building a shelter

One huff and a puff and it all falls down

I do not want that to happen (again) 

Sometimes – in the walls outside my body – I can find comfort

I find myself in my chair, quietly reading, looking at the sky outside the window 

Other times it feels like fight-flight-freeze – 

The world is too loud, too busy but also empty to me

Mostly I find comfort within myself (when I can) –

Inside is my true home and shelter

It has always kept me safe – alive

I trust it will continue to keep me safe

Perhaps even grow like the strongest, shiny acorn 

Tumbling onto a carpet of green ready for another to retrieve –

To find their own heart-shaped box and grow it into a sanctuary fit for a queen.  

Poetics: The Smile in a Simile

“A light rain, as tranquil as an apple.” (Anne Sexton)

I rub my stomach, take a deep breath and begin to think

The thoughts drift by like clouds now, not fire

I am not sure that happiness is a destination – rather, a feeling 

One that gathers momentum like tumbleweed floating down an empty road

Soft as pillows, exciting and wild –

Following a pattern of building – getting stronger and more certain

Like me, I think and allow myself to smile 

I gather up ideas and problems but they remain both a flow and comfort –

Like living, it gives me a rush of presence and happiness

The soft brush of wheat jumps and dances – like a ballet dancer high on their toes

Gliding as easily as a candle gently glowing until it burns itself out

It is evening and the dark approaches 

But, there is a light rain, as tranquil as an apple. 

Haibun Monday 2-2-26: Groundhog Day Redux

I look out of the window and feel the coming spring. Inside I light a white candle. Watch the flame flicker on the table top. I like the contrast between colours. The orange flame, the melting white wax. It reminds me of winter –  lighting candles in oranges with red ribbons tied around their girth. I have hopes for this spring. There will be crisp, blue sky walks. Foaming sea and clouds. Magpies flying. The tree outside re-blooming. Perhaps outside feels better because I have found the sense of renewal inside. And I walk towards it looking up at the sky.

Birds in flight

Clear blue skies above

Sun inside  

https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2026/01/friday-writings-212-luxurious-feels.html

I stretch my limbs – warm under the stars and moon

Flexing and tensing, feeling the luxury of being comfortable within myself

The clock ticks away the minutes and the hours

A gentle heartbeat of what is, what was and what will be

It is good – to have time

I like watching the sky transition between night and day

It makes me feel at once small but present 

I wonder if I mean anything (does it matter)

Outside the wind churns and moans

I huddle lower under my covers

At breakfast I will eat toast and honey, a piping hot cup of tea.

It never fails to surprise me that I’ve had a second, third, fourth time

To feel comfortable with this base –

To luxuriate in its building.

https://newwhatsgoingon.blogspot.com/2026/01/help-for-hurting-hearts.html

With every beat – Lub-Dub – my heart heals

With all the scars of inner wars coating it

Maybe it will be strong enough to weather a few more storms 

I like that healing has a beat – 

Sometimes regular – sometimes slow – sometimes racing

But always working towards a more regular and soothing beat

If I close my eyes and steady my breaths 

I can tune into the rhythm I need to follow

I close my eyes, sit up straight and let the air flow in and out my nose

I imagine my heart as a tender rose that needs care and gentle loving

If only I could look inside to see that it was red and soft

Bright as a rose placed on a window sill

As it is, I feel it in my chest and head 

My hurting heart is a gift that needs re-wrapping 

Tied compassionately with a bow and given to my soul.