Through the snow…

Through The Snow

‘Straight’ A student once,

A girl with dreams, girl with chance;

Chance of doing something great

Then a puppet with puppet’s fate.

Once in charge, once in control,

A girl with heart, girl with soul.

Sold herself to get a fix,

For something instant, something quick.

Started off with just a puff,

Then she knew she’d had enough.

A little later she met someone,

Made her laugh, have some fun.

He was on the trip before;

Now he had someone to soar

With open arms and dreams ahead,

Joined together, their habits fed.

They took a journey, rode together,

Through the snow for hell and leather;

They skied the slopes, down they went,

Destination not heaven bent.

For many seasons, the snow went on,

They wished so hard it would be gone.

They tried in vein to clear the snow,

Did not work – on with the show.

What started out, just as fun,

Soon took hold, now number one.

The blizzard blew, was blowing strong,

The journey hardened, miles were long.

They both knew, that change must come,

Or forever, they’d be undone.

It was hard, they missed their kicks,

Missed their snowman, missed their fix.

As time went by, they stayed together,

Bonds so strong, unbroken, never.

Against all odds, they stood the test

Of time immortal, deprived of rest –

Until such time as they had learnt

Lessons well, flames unburnt.

Universally sanctioned, arm in arm,

Gods did soften and free from harm.

It did not matter, had to be,

Star crossed lovers destiny;

But unlike Romeo, and Juliet

It was good that these two met.

Grim Reaper met the Cobra Queen,

She knew him, had known he’d been,

Her Karmic Prince for all of time,

Her main player, in her cosmic mime.

Lives interwoven, eternally linked,

Chained in melody, not chains that chinked.

United in a timeless love,

Gods just playing them, from above.

Before the end, the slope got steeper

For Cobra Queen and Grim Reaper,

But now they’re sorted, squeaky clean

Only God knows, what might have been.

© Liola Lee 2007






Girl in me…

However old we get, our inner child is always within us. If we look closely in the mirror we will see her…

There once was a girl,  a long time ago,

Where she is now, I do not know.

I wish I could find her, ask her to stay,

Where she is now, I cannot say.

I call her name, there’s no reply,

Where is she now? I wonder why?

I look in the mirror, what do I see?

Someone familiar, looking at me.

I look again, I stare, then see,

Looking back, is the girl in me.

I look again, I stare, I see,

The girl in the mirror,

Inside of me.


Pour the coffee love,                     

I’ve not got long;

make it hot,

make it strong.

I’m late for work,

hurry up!

Pour it out,

fill my cup.

My caffeine fix,

hits the spot.

Espresso now!

Another shot.

Please some more,

I need it now.

Another hit,

final bow?

Jacking in my job,

I’ve other things to do


chasing dreams and dragons


you can join me too.

I’m good at needlework

these days;

moved on from

drawing lines;

I’m tracing tracks


all the time

too much

I bow.

© Liola Lee 2007

Many of us may find ourselves addicted to something in our life times. It could be cigarettes, drugs, alcohol, coffee, sugar, gambling, spending or any number of other things. try not to judge because you could be them!







slumbering in earthen graves

some known others not

flesh on bones left to rot

faceless now lost in caves

laying long in dirty trenches

waiting for death to come

bloodied rows crowded tomb

rotting flesh smells and stenches

immobile bodies lay so still

crimson sticky puddles stick

open wounds carrion lick

‘til rats and birds have had their fill

no romance in bloody wars

boys and men go to die

for what? perhaps just lies

just some so-called cause

sleep now hush now darling

little boys one and all

lay you down and gently fall

asleep with Jesus calling

© Liola Lee 2007

I wrote this poem in 2007 to remember all those service men and women who fought in all wars. The imagery in the poem is more in reference to The Great War and the trenches. Please know The image here is of my beautiful Dad who signed up for the RAF at the age of 18. He and many like him served their Sovereign and Country in World War II to keep us free…I blended the image with a field of Poppies to create a dramatic effect. I had hoped to post this on Armistice/Remembrance day but life got in the way. So here it is now…


Side by Side…

The World outside is cold, unclear, 

Beyond the glaze is fettered fear.

Leaded lights lend the pain to

Storms in motion, falling rain.

Emerald carpet of billowing blades,

Dew-strewn dust, autumnal raids.

Glimmering tint gives stylish air

To Mother’s garden of, Earthborn fare.

Now indoors, a heated room with

Damp descending like dampened gloom.

Influenza, coughs and colds,

Bacterial bugs grimy moulds.

Curtained crevice, partitioned wall,

Manmade structure, brick built shawl.

Blocks of stone, hard grey slates,

Craftily casted designer crates.

Packaged possessions tightly tied,

Awaiting carriage in hired ride.

Once more to stand in mint crisp glade,

Inhaling memory lest, vision fades.

The path ahead seems all concrete,

Stamped, well trodden, under-feet.

Step from the path, the way ahead,

Two halves each way – traffic spread.

Across the road a wall of brick,

Six feet high six inches thick.

Beside the wall I see a tree,

Reaching out as, Earth to me.

Maid and Mother wane with the Moon,

Grandma’s turn to, play the tune.

Fruit once abundant, skilfully sown,

Seeds scattered widely, watered and grown.

Wind upon my weathered brow,

Feels the same, then as now.

It’s just the wrapping worn and creased,

Vintage vehicle, life travelled lease.

We’re one, the same sharing the ride,

My mirror image, side by Side.

© Liola Lee 2007

This is a poem I wrote about ageing….