Turning over a new, old leaf.

He sighed with a strained breath, read

through the letter again; surely his sincerity

should reflect undoubtedly now?

But the rubbed out pencil

marks had worn the paper and

stole the neatness of his carefully placed words.

Unsatisfied, he replaced the day’s paper with a blank

new sheet, and copied out his old words.


But when turning over a new leaf, he was blind

to the stain left behind of his unfading character – he missed

that the wearied paper, greyed with apology and crying

damp with pain, carried more depth


Than his clean words will ever show.


[poetry | 101 | rehab| papers]



Life imitates art 📷

basket plait

Life imitates art? One would think it’s the other way around… But looking no deeper than a Wikipedia search and the phrase seems incredibly insightful:

“…although there has been fog in London for centuries, one notices the beauty and wonder of the fog because “poets and painters have taught the loveliness of such effects… They did not exist till Art had invented them.” – Wikipedia

And a few lines to accompany the faded out photo:

She laughs as the dapples of sunlight dance and hide
amongst the unruly grass,
while the wind ruffles
her hair, entwined like nature’s reeds.
And though time fades her rosy cheeks,
her glowing youth stays, ever intact.
And her skin crinkles with aged beauty, where wisdom has made its marks –

for the first time since it left, free, from fiction’s mouth.

-the walking pencil

[The Daily Post – Photo Challenge] “Life imitates art far more than art imitates life.” — Oscar Wilde

Previous poem + photo: Unusual gathering