Why do we change?

I recently revisited the gifts I gave to those closest to me in my youth, both as a child and when I was young and in love for the first time. It turns out, I did enjoy writing poems, something I had long forgotten. Though some may argue my talents at the time left much to be desired, it was surprising to discover that once upon a time it was the light and not the dark that drove my creativity. Positive emotion, rather than pain.

I wonder what changes in us as we grow older that makes pain the easier pool from which to draw the voice of our inner poet. Why is it so easy to feel the dark so deeply now, when way back then only light saw fit to make its mark on another’s heart?

If you’ve read my works featured in ‘Why does painful poetry come so easily?’ you’ll surely see the stark difference between the poems of the past and those I write now.

So, without further ado, here is my first ever poem, a childhood Christmas present for my mum.

A Thousand Words

If I could write a thousand words,

Putting all I want to say,

I’d write the way you make me feel

Every minute of every day.

I’d write the way you pick me up

Whenever I feel down,

How you make me happy when I’m sad

How you make a smile from a frown.

I’d write about the lessons you’ve taught

And the morals you’ve given me.

They’ll help me get through life

You’re the way a parent should be.

If I could write a thousand words

I’d write much more than this

About the adventure I’ll have through life

I know you’ll never miss.

So whenever you’re upset

Or if we’ve just had a fight

Just think of the thousand words

There wasn’t room to write.

Now, my childhood wasn’t perfect, no-one’s is, but one thing was perfectly clear - I was loved and I was taught love every day. No matter how hard life became or how much things changed, love was the dominating force of my childhood. It did indeed conquer all in those early days, as far as I could tell, and I suppose that’s why it won out as I took my first steps into the world of poetry. As I’ve said in the past, it seems to be the strongest emotions that allow the words to just flow on out.

It was a long time after this piece before I practiced poetry again. I always enjoyed reading poems, but when it came to writing, poetry was the only form I avoided like the plague during my teenage years. It was simply too personal to share in a time when darkness reigned and I, for the first (and last) tie, wanted to remain unseen.

It wasn’t until I fell in love and threw caution to the wind, so to speak, that I was confident enough in myself again that I was willing to put the dorkiest, corniest parts of myself on display happily and without reservation. Prepare yourself for a poem that is Valentine’s Day level sappy and corny. I promise you, the cringe factor is second to none, but would it really be a first time love story without that?

For Darren

You are my knight in shining armour

My hero day and night

My heart is yours completely

Nothing has ever felt so right.

You fill my life with purpose

You’ve made my heart complete

Every day you make an adventure

Never boring or downbeat.

I’ve never known a heart so kind

Or a spirit so brave and pure

You’re the person every man should be

You are special, that’s for sure.

You put your arms around me

Promising that I’m the only one

I pull you close so happily

Our heartfelt bond is next to none.

I’ll love you until the end of time

And likely longer still

You’re my one and only, my heart and soul

Encouraging my every hope and will.

So remember my knight in shining armour

My hero night and day

My heart is yours forever

And yours forever it will stay.

Anyone else’s cheeks burning with embarrassment of sharing their earliest proclamation of love? No, just me then. I know, I know, dorky as all hell. Cut me some slack okay, I was barely more than a teenager when I wrote this and, as I said, it was written for my first love. He and I had quite the laugh when we pulled it out again, and now it sits upon our entertainment unit for all to see. Though I can’t help but feel a little self conscious reading through this and sharing it after such a long time, he still seems to think it’s sweet and, at the end of the day, the only person who needs to like this poem is my husband. It was written for him after all.

So, I have to say, this was a somewhat enlightening experience in that it reminded me that a positive place from which words once flowed lies somewhere inside of me. Though that flicker of creativity may be small, and was secret until now, the joy that my old words brought forth suggest it still exists. I’m interested to see if I can tap back into that well of love and seek new inspiration for my poetry going forward. Time will tell.