Poetry

Poetry Book Coming Later on in 2018…..

Announcements will appear here in due course

Follow my writing Instagram account at @lauraferrieswriter

Alongside travel articles, in my personal time I have been working on writing and compiling a book of narrative poetry.

This book tracks the narrative of life stages in which we sometimes suffer, learn and grow to reach where we truly want to be; in my case it is pinned to life growing up in England, a transition period then moving to Spain.

My travel articles reflect these sentiments too however I feel that via poetry, they can be presented in a distinct, artistic manner open to interpretation from each individual reader.

I post my poetry and accompanying photographs on my Instagram account- @lauraferrieswriter . Below is a sample of some which will be included in my book:

Paris Rain

This poem has all the trappings of a cliché

From the Eiffel Tower to the Musée d’Orsay

Paris rain from under café canopy

Sipping café au lait minded-absently

Mon cher please pass me hastily

My imitation Parisian polka dot parapluie

Now let’s run for cover, take a bon vin rouge

Stay here for hours sampling finest amuse-bouche

It’s the same old story told a thousand times before

But I’m still splashing mirrors on rain stained Paris floor

 

Marrakech

Chaotic mosaic

Spice rack

Souk-shack

Leather real: bags fake

Snake charm

Prayer call

Wonder mall

No sleep; rooster alarm

Watch out!

Motorbike

Stall-strike

Good prices; no doubt

Money scarce

People warm

Heat swarm

Artisan; true art

Marrakech- Carves its place in the heart

Freedom

The butterfly

That evades the net

And lives out its one day span

 

Knows sky

With such freedom offset-

More liberty lived than the Earthly man

 

Re-bloom

The rose grew and bloomed

But instead of cherished

It was stamped on then perished

Left to just wither

Each petal forcibly fell

A floral death knell

But after that beheading

A new bud always blooms

That indelible strength always resumes

 

Electric Faces

The weekly transmission

Of pixellated recognition

When electric faces

Holograms beam to far away places

Telephonic satellite

Ensures we’re not out of sight

Voice cast in radio wave

Exchanged in our electric exclave

Once a week I go for a glass of wine

With my friend via an Internet line

This place we inhabit; our virtual bar

Reminds me how we are never that far

 

 

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