poetry

Wounds by Helen Sherwin

As a soldier returned from war I am wounded.
Not by weapons nor explosions,
But your words have wounded me,
In a way only those closest to me can see.

You took the place of God,
When you used your power to pull the rug
Out from underneath my once steady feet,
And the house from over my head as well.Read More →

I See Beauty by Helen Sherwin

Look in the mirror,
What do you see?
Imperfection before perfection,
The wounds from the battle field
marking your face,
The haggard life
of a once beautiful wife,
Fading years,
Tear after tear stained eyes,
Lines –
where they shouldn’t be,
for someone so young.Read More →

You are Welcome Here by Helen Sherwin

I know you think you’re not welcome but you are,
I miss you,
Fear grips at my insides when I think about what might have happened to you,
I am waiting,
I am longing actually,
Longing for you to come into my line of sight,
At that point I will start running,
And I won’t stop running until I embrace you.

I’m here again outside the house by the gate,
Watching for you,
Waiting to see if you’ll come,
Your brother thinks I’m mad to do this each day,
That I’m torturing myself.Read More →

Please Sir by Helen Sherwin

Calm down little man,
Take a breath and sit down.
You have nothing to prove here,
Take your time –
For nothing breaks a person like rushing.

So much pushing,
Too much power.
Can’t you see the need to slow down a minute,
and just think?

These are real people,
Humans too.
Daughters, sons,
Old and young,
Everyone needs a home,
And you are closing the door on their whole world.

Without so much as a conversation,
a compromise,
a period of planning,
You are determined to throw people under the bus,
Water-boarding their sense of value,
And curtailing their freedom.

So, Please Sir –
Don’t be so arrogant as to wait for us to smile at you,
As you bark orders whilst smoothing your hair,
And willing us to massage your ego.
Because we won’t.
We can’t –
Until you respect our brothers.Read More →

The Meaning of Grace by Helen Sherwin

Do you know the meaning of grace?
To be loved beyond words and without a trace –
of guilt, or shame or earning
But instead, your yearning
is met in complete forgiveness
at The Cross.

Oh, for the lost –
Yes, you can be found
Let this news get around:
The sheep has a shepherd;
the guitar has a player
He knows the chords of your soul,
The perfect song which wins your whole
Being.Read More →

Identify Me by Helen Sherwin

The keys tap (as the sleeper stirs)
Hastily splurging thoughts into words
Defacing the whiteness
Stealing the purity from the blank page
And identifying me

It’s a revealing of the secret kept
The needs of the writer met
As the heart is unravelling
The truth becomes concrete
And relief comes quickly

But just as fast a fear brews
Panic grasps at the air tube
The sleeper is no longer sleeping
Everything is awakening
And a choice dawns

A desire to hide from the second soul
Covering up the almost told
Snatching it from its birth
The efforts fade unborn
And identify me.Read More →