Earlier this year my creative writing group mixed up our usual 500-word prompt writing challenge by not only selecting random prompt words but also allocating set genres to us all at random.
The genre I picked out of the hat was ‘Romance’, much to my chagrin! The prompt words were: ‘Grammar’ and ‘Lost’.
After a couple of dreadful attempts at starting Romance fiction, I took a break to stop myself from simply forcing a story out. What happened in due course was quite incredible!
I had not written poetry for many years, and I was never skilled at it in any case. However, in the early hours one morning, as I lay restless, lines just came to me and I began to write candidly. Usually titles come easily to me and I may know what something is going to be called before I even finish it. With this piece I felt that to name it would be to dishonour the spontaneity of its conception. It was very raw and came without pre-meditation so I left it as:
Untitled
Tonight all of our blankets are the stars,
In reverie we share each other’s skin
And, curious, we trace each other’s scars,
We needn’t wonder now what might have been.
Our laughter lilts the night air, tinged with hope,
Wet secrets in the dark, our fingers laced,
The simple, sweet release; we tease and joke
And whisper for the thrill, deep sighs and shakes.
For innocence can dream another day
To filter out that voice and doubt it casts,
Experience – a sceptic all the way,
Is this ephemeral or will it last?
But for tonight, this second, minute, hour,
Let’s lose ourselves; what matters most is now.
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