I remember as a child
How cold seemed her smile
Scared was I of her face
Many lines my fingers could trace
But a mile I would run
This ancient woman, hair in a bun
Sometimes down, long and wild
She would scare many a child
Some would freeze as if turned to stone
Never wanting to be with her alone
Most would run away screaming
Or their mum’s with eyes streaming
I though lived next door to her
Separated by an alleyway, not so far
I would see her almost everyday
To bed at night I would pray
That she wouldn’t come for me at night
This wicked witch to give me a fright!
But as I got older I saw her anew
A lonely old women like me and you
Who was nice and not to be feared
Even a little to be revered
But deep down the child inside
Still cowers and does hide
For basic fears still haunt our dreams
Nothing is always as it seems…
Published by
Darren Greenidge
I'm a thinker, listener, a "question's pretty much everything" type of person. A seeker of knowledge, always restless, yet seeks the calm in life.
I love writing in all forms and am in the process of completing a number of ongoing projects. I love the craft of writing and the possibilities it holds. A magic carpet through the mind. I love pretty much all creative arts, music, film and theatre the leading ones.
Born in Hertfordshire in England, my family Irish, Welsh and English, I currently reside in Edinburgh, in Scotland. I'm drawn to coastal and mountain regions where I like to go to think and draw inspiration from. Ireland is a place that's dear to me, and I try to get back to see family and friends as much as possible.
My interests are wide and broad, too many to mention here, but history, archaeology, criminology, music and film are just some of those things I love.
I hope you enjoy my ramblings on here as that's what they are really. I'll let my fingers do the ''talking...''
View all posts by Darren Greenidge
Caliburnus Rises 