Ashes by Jacqueline Nash


I stand with bare feet amid the ashes,
grey dust between my toes;
in the colourless void that stretches out before me
my body appears but a mere speck within it’s emptiness,
trembling hands hang useless at my sides
on arms so heavy
it is impossible to wipe the tears from my eyes.

I kick my feet in frustration, disturbing the dust,
memories rise to float in the air around me,
hopelessly I try to reach for them
but my leaden arms too heavy let me down,
and slowly, those memories fall
back to the ground,
scattering once more among my broken dreams.

I drop to my knees amid the debris of my past,
knowing nothing will ever be the same again,
everything taken by a greedy fire
with needy flames, all consuming, ravenous,
swallowing everything in its wake,
leaving me desolate
and unable to rise from this bed of ashes.

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Sadness by Jacqueline Nash

I have not posted for quite a while. Some of you will know that my husband Brian passed away at the beginning of last year after struggling with cancer for four years. I lost my soul mate. At the same time both parents suffered with ill health and my father died the year before Brian. I have found it extremely difficult to get back to anything near normal, whatever normal is now. Friends and family have been fantastic but the feeling of loss is still unbearable. I am trying to get back into the swing of things and decided to post some of the poems I wrote the year or so before Brian died, when I knew he wasn’t going to make it. My two WordPress Blogs and the amazing WordPress community helped keep me going through the most difficult time in my life. Hopefully I will be able to write on a more cheerful note in the not too distant future. The first of these poems is called Sadness.


There is a tragic sadness that hangs in the air today,
oppressive, almost tangible, impossible to ignore it there,
if I could gather it in my arms, I would gladly throw it to the wind,
but it hovers in all it’s nakedness, emotions laid bare.

It climbs down my throat, a big lump that loiters,
the sadness creeps into my eyes making them moist,
I breathe it into my lungs making it difficult to breathe normally,
but I try to hide this agony that cannot be voiced.

I am grieving for what was and will never be again,
struggling with a knowledge of what the future has in store,
and I know there is no way out of this heart breaking dilemma,
but know it is a journey I am forced to endure.

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Deliverance by Jacqueline Nash

It is interesting how people read things into poetry. They will  analyse it depending on their mind set or religious beliefs. You may think that this poem is about someone finding religion, which was deliberate on my part. It is actually about someone finding strength and confidence in themselves.


Born again,
I have absorbed the light,
my skin shines like the sun
emitting golden rays
and I feel myself rising;
light as a handful of stardust
blown towards the sky,
arms outstretched;
I fly.

I am set free,
released from everything
that bound me.

I shed joyous tears
as I no longer have fears
or self doubt,
because the faith I have found
within myself, is devout.

I listen to my inner voice,
to the beat of my heart
against my ribs,
and that is enough;
I feel so alive.

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Fading by Jacqueline Nash


Colourful threads slowly unravel,
stitch by stitch they come undone,
life’s tapestry is disappearing,
memories fading, one by one.

Scenes so beautifully embroidered
through life’s journey to it’s peak,
begin to vanish from the story,
memories that play hide and seek.

Words become harder to find,
the world so hard to comprehend,
the simplest task too difficult,
unable to recognise family or friend.

Searching for any sense is futile,
life’s tapestry now beyond repair,
every stitch has become unravelled,
leaving only the fabric of despair.

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Addiction by Jacqueline Nash


The craving so strong,
all dignity gone,
every cell in her body cries out for more,
the dopamine rush has taken control,
it’s seduction she cannot ignore.

This love affair is destined to go wrong,
a relationship made in hell,
it holds her in chains,
there is no escape
from the sadist she knows so well.

She struggles to fight the compulsion,
and the demon
that controls her existence,
but emaciated and weak,
strength of mind all but gone,
all her efforts make no difference.

Once again she surrenders
to the call that haunts her,
loads the bullet,
and spins the cylinder,
playing Russian Roulette
with bated breath,
she takes her partner
to dice with death.

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Eye Candy by Jacqueline Nash

Eye Candy

You coloured me;
the brushstrokes changing my pigment
to your liking,
shaping me with your palette knife
into a form that pleased you,
creating your masterpiece
to exhibit for all to see.

But you were unable to complete
your work of art,
you had underestimated my complexity.

You layered your colours,
and like a chameleon
I changed mine,
every time you thought me
shaped into a perfect image,
like a shape-shifter
I would re-invent myself.

The thing is,
you never took the time
to get to know me.

You see;
I will not be manipulated,
and so, I refused to be the canvas
for your vanity.

I am no eye candy.

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Innocence by Jacqueline Nash

As summer is more or less over I thought this poem would bring a little sunshine into the day and remind us of the glorious summers of childhood.


I remember how the sun always shone
in clear skies of blue,
radiating warm golden light
making everything gleam bright,
on those never ending summer days of long ago.

I can see us all now
sitting on the grass,
so carefree and happy,
we could be anyone we wanted to be,
but mostly;
we were princesses.

We wore our daisy chain crowns like halos
along with our daisy chain necklaces,
the daisies protected us we had been told,
from being stolen by the fairies;
because daisy eyes stay open in the sun.

How we loved to search in the grass,
for a lucky four leaf clover,
it gave us so much fun,
we knew each leaf had a meaning,
love, faith, hope and the fourth of course,
well; that was the lucky one.

Grass stalks we found quite easily
and a whimsical game we would play,
we picked the seeds off one by one,
he loves me, he loves me not,
the last seed decided the outcome,
although boyfriends, we had none.

We would scream with laughter,
giggle and chatter,
blow dandelion seeds
and watch them scatter,
making a wish as we blew,
hoping with pure hearts
that the wish would come true.

Golden buttercups were good fun too,
we held them under our chins in jest,
“do you, don’t you, of course you do”,
it was the well known “Do you like butter?” test.

The simplest things would please us then,
we felt so wonderfully free,
in bare feet,
the feel of
grass between our toes,
we sang and danced in abandonment
with uninhibited spontaneity.

The hot summer day would move into night,
when in our beds
we would lay our sleepy heads,
and in sweet dreams,
we would relive
the wonders of our day.

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