• www.inkitt.com

Clare Healy

Location: Dublin

Bio

I’ve always had difficulty with reading, writing and spelling. I was known as a slow learner and a dreamer in school, destined for not very much. This belief did not encourage me to follow my love of storytelling. I would often make up stories and delighted in regaling them to friends and family but I could never write them down. The joy of reading evaded me until my late teens when with a lot of hard work my reading improved and I discover the wonderful escapism found in the pages of a good book. Thankfully in recent years my confidence has grown and the world is a little kinder and more accepting of a wrongly spelt expression. As a nurse with an illness preventing me from working during this current pandemic I have found myself spending most of my free time writing poems and stories. I love to play with words. I particularly love to rhyme, I enjoy the momentum and flow of a rhyming poem.

Current project

I’m currently working on a collection of poems. As I am sitting comfortably in my early forties I have been looking back at some of the more difficult times in my life and my poems are often written to my younger self as a comfort during those
times.
I am also a lover of dark fairy tales and some of my poems follow in the style of these dark cautionary tales.
Some of my poems are an expression of loss, something I have a lot of experience of.

I am also working on my first Novel. It is in the early stages.

Writing sample

Paper Dreams

In a leafy green wood
Where proud trees stood
Safe in their overhang
A little songbird she sang
Her voice it was heard a song from within
A tail of sweet longing for a life to begin
And his knowing ear turned, and he drew her in

With his fat hand he took her and plucked her to the shell
And replaced her pretty feathers with some he could sell
And when he was finished, she was chewed up and empty
Not like his pockets they were full a plenty

Her life he left broken
His payment just a token
A fraction of what he gleamed
From the young birds that screamed

“Little songbird you
are living the dream”

Now the little Songbird she can no longer sing
And his knowing ear snaps towards the next shiny thing

And back in a leafy green wood
Where proud trees once stood
You can hear not a sound
For the young birds are stranded on the ground
Their bought wings futile unable to fly
And in his fat hands a bounty that has left them to die

So, listen young birds I don’t mean to make you cry
I just ask you keep the wings that were made to fly
And believe me when I tell of a warning like this
That all fairy tales end with a twist

…………………………………………………………………

Broken

Electrified room all the parts are paired
Most don’t even know you are there
Those that do only avoid you
It’s the night from which you grew

Your brokenness repulses them
You’ve stayed too long again
Loneliness threatens to swallow you
In the place where he brought you to

Let her go with that night
Their idea of you was not right
A place in time
Sadness your only crime

Try to forget their cruelty
It’s what helped set you free
Forgive yourself, your mistake
A side effect of heartbreak

…………………………………………………..

  • The Dark Room by Sam Blake
  • www.designforwriters.com

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