Falling into Seasons


Letters tumble from broken leaves that autumn cast away
Whilst the wind takes hold grabbing them from hand to
form words I nuzzle close, gathering them in my arms
before my icy breath scatters them into sentences
around my feet

Mesmerised with crackled colour bouncing before my eyes
it read, ‘winter darkness now intrudes into pores, flicking
like tree limbs broken, its fork tongue upon the skin’
and we at times let it puncture, along with inevitable cimmerian  
of the Season, our moods disengage, until we see the sun
once more

copyright JMTacken 18.6.14

It’s all in the music (Prose with Music)

spirit of music, beckons
sounds evoke images, ears absorb
they swirl around your core
then settle, within the depth of you

drops of silken water touch leaves
waterfalls cascade down glassy rocks
rainbows stretch across hills
clouds float along the breeze
waves tumble to the shore
snow slowly melts on the bough

sunset on a slow summers night
branches bow against the breeze
the notes are more than these
go with them, they guide you to
places you have never been

some make you soar
fly on wings ‘cross crystal oceans
or darkness and shadows appear
what you experience, what you hear

as notes heighten senses
music changes you, brings tears
of sadness, or of joy
instruments or words
they can alter the thoughts
you now possess
before you began to play

©jmtacken 17 Feb 2014

and a nudge or two from Brian on this one ~ thank you~ I struggle with passive and active language ..but I’m learning!

Laced emotion (Prose)

held together ornate lace
an indefinable weave, delicate stitches
interwoven we are
not the love of souls intertwined

flesh, blood and bone
delicate thread
in a twisted skein

a place lost in the artistry of
fabric, easily damaged
fragile, worn edges
that a seamstress alone
cannot mend

©jmtacken Feb 2014
Photo Credit: www.pinterest.com

Thank you to Brian www.waystationone.com for another nudge (thankfully I have not suffered any bruising in the writing of the above)

Moments. (Prose)

at times
coloured lives existing
can be
we step translucent

chromaticity dissolves
fading inwardly
ghost-like through days
colours will return

our days
mountains not trekked
solitude silence
along singular paths

we step with longing
hoping for
to emerge from our

be brave for
they will
strength gained
to feel a better way
without shadows
beyond what you
felt today

Copyright JMTacken Jan 2014

What makes us? (Prose)

no tears in the writer

The writer has invited you
to read their words
to be privy to their inner thoughts
What they perceive to be ~
the essence of their soul
the antidote for how they feel
at any given moment

How do you envisage them
someone with a life
much the same as yours
A wife daydreaming by the stove
her words cooking in the pot
a teacher scribbling on a
blackboard, only to think of a poem

Do they sit at traffic lights
with words tumbling through
their heads ~ grasping for a scrap of paper
battling to find a pen, so they won’t
leave the words behind
For it’s in these precious moments
that they must write them down
or commit to memory
hoping later they’ll be found

Writers can be complicated
each one so different from the next
whilst one is happy with what they write
you’ll find the other quite perplexed
To you the reader you have the chance
to peer into their heart, their soul
their experiences in life

You will see pain, tears and suffering
love and happiness,  Mood swings
high to low from one day to the next
for they are emotional creatures
whose words reflect what they feel
and a roller-coaster ride is yours
should you care to read

So bear all this in mind
as you absorb what they
have written, understand their love
of writing at times needs to be forgiven
it’s a desire, a want, a lust
with a thirst that’s never quenched
but if by chance, it’s touched your heart
in the tiniest of ways
or brought some strong emotion forth
then you’ll have truly made their day


©jmtacken 21 Oct, 2013



Please hit play as you read


I love

bare feet walking on wet sand

lying on softened grass

covering myself in blankets

staring into an open fire

telling you I love you

listening to a symphony of insects

morning mist latching onto trees

walking without a destination

dancing in the summer rain

watching lovers holding hands

hot showers on a wintry day

scented candles burning in the night

the softness of the strings

the lilt of the ivories

close your eyes and listen

music filling my body

cradling a new born baby in my arms

listening to thunderstorms

watching the sun as it rises

the taste of a beautiful wine

walking through a forest

incense burning

staring into rock pools

hugging my parents

being with my daughters


holding onto treasured memories

my head has it’s own heart beat