Tag Archives: Historical


This poem was again inspired by the way men often treated women during the Regency Era. However, this is also inspired by all those modern heroines whose motto is “don’t get mad-get even!”

Cold creeps in, stops the beat,
Stop the heart, stop the heat,
A skip in the rhythm, empty space,
Nothing left to fill the place,
Keep looking forward, eyes up high,
Yet burn a hole in the open sky,
Jealously, anger, green-eyed hate,
I leave you here, to your empty fate,
Walk on past, ignore the taunt,
It’s him, my vengeful ghost will haunt,
If I go down, you’re coming too,
Melting in a witches brew,
Your cold, hard heart may tease me still,
But I know how to melt the chill,
My heart is broken, eyes are blank,
For this new-found spirit, you I thank,
For if you had not hurt me so,
I would still be the one you know,
But now I’m better, faster, stronger,
And I am weak for no longer.

This story is about a player (a rake during the Regency Era) who caused a woman to fall in love with him. He left her but upon realising that she loved him he taunts her, flaunting his new girl at every opportunity and so on.

However, this is written from the girl’s point of view. This is story is showing how her love to turns to hate and how she becomes both hateful and vengeful in the rebound from a broken heart. It’s a story about how she turns herself from someone who would have been hurt by her former suitor’s taunts to one who simply plans to bring him down!

Something I bet we can all relate to. Enjoy.

The Walking Dead

This poem was inspired, again, by World War Two. The story was of a doctor who helped run a Jewish orphanage. He was offered a way out of the war but he stayed with the children. Eventually German soldiers arrived and forced the doctor and the children to walk miles to the nearest concentration camp. While they walked, the doctor held the hands of one or two of the children. Here’s the result of my “inspiration”. (By the way, the sand refers to a sand timer and the smoke obviously to the burning of clothes and bodies by the Nazis and the persona is obviously one of the children holding the doctor’s hand, whispering his fears and ending up consoling the poor doctor).

The Walking Dead

We are the walking dead, aren’t we mister,

The walking dead, me and my little sister,

We’re marching to our death aren’t we sir,

Please, my little sister, can’t you help her,

Mister, you aren’t crying are you,

Come on now, it’s nothing new,

Just keep on holding my blistered hand,

It’s almost gone, all that sand,

Mister, I can be the walking dead,

‘Cause I know that He’s not just in my head,

You see the smoke of Satan’s cigar,

We are the walking dead, we are.


We studied Macbeth in class and I really enjoyed it but sometimes I got a little bored during class. Here’s the result.


One is pulled to Devil’s thrall,

One can, of course, resist his call,

One can hide his traitors mind,

Other one is left behind,

One ignores the call of reason,

Other hides the future treason,

One is not so solely loyal,

Other speaks of others toil,

One is drawn to distant crown,

Other can’t control his frown,

Yet Other is blind to the murderous study,

And One can see the just heart bloody.

I’ll give you a clue, there a two characters, see if you can figure out who they are and which lines each says. Good luck!


Many was written during a trip to a local historical House. Just thinking about the people who lived there is always inspirational. A sure cure for writer’s block. It’s a very brief history of the House. For example there’s a mention of when it was visited by a Monarch; occupied by the Civil War soldiers; forbidden loves and so on. Try and work out the rest…


Many lives have touched these walls,

Many feet have walked these halls,

Many hands have trailed this floor,

Many fingers have closed this door,

Many lives have hidden behind,

Many eyes allowed to blind,

Many minds have battled for,

Many times for something more,

Many of the views have changed,

Many of the bricks arranged,

Many songs have reached the ceiling,

Many spoke the love they’re feeling,

Many banquets held in cheerful,

Many weapons held by fearful,

Many of the wives alone,

Many of the secrets known,

Many of the hearts were broken,

Many of true words spoken,

Many ones were regal past,

Many ones the future cast.

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