This Little Piggy


A wee little pig I have become,

My mind wallows in mud and scum,

Hairs that sprout from my chinny-chin-chin,

Bulging flesh and stretching skin,

With fragile walls too easily blown

By the big bad wolves I long have known,

As weak as sticks or straw, my heart,

Too used to being torn apart.


Please shield me with your house of bricks,

Protect me from life’s cruellest kicks,

A place to which my heart can roam,

And a love to carry me all the way home.

Emma H, age 26, 14/08/2017



Happy Throwback Thursday, everyone! Today, I’m reposting the first poem I wrote as a response to the Daily Prompt, back in February. It depicts the way music and peaceful me-time can provide an escape to the boredom and stress of daily life. Oft needed, I must say! Hope you enjoy 🙂

In Emma World

via Daily Prompt: Hideout

These walls are invisible,

A hideout of the mind,

View original post 90 more words

First Fallen


Costume jewellery spider webs,

Strung with dewy diamond beads,

Grassy fields sequin-scattered,

Festooning even lowly weeds.


Kamikaze helicopters,

Sycamore skydivers,

Twist and twirl and flit and swirl:

First fallen survivors.


Velveteen fog descends,

Smothering the world in grey,

Casting thick and syrupy gloom

To obfuscate the break of day.


Luscious canopies transform,

Speckled with season’s rust;

Flame-tipped or foliage brushed

With ruddy blush or gilt gold-dust.


Branch by branch neatly disrobed,

These russet-tasseled trees,

Each leaflet floats and drifts to ground,

Plucked clean by bitter breeze.


Spiky shells cracked on the ground

Reveal their chestnut jewels,

The gleaming treasure gathered up

For playtime fun in schools.


Slick September showers

Fill the air with earthy scent;

Roads and pavements puddle-riddled

Soaked by autumn skies’ lament.


Once crisp leaves are moulded

Into multicoloured mulch;

Muddied borders line the streets

In roadside gutter gulch.


Shivering and sodden,

Breath curling into vapour,

Fraught commuters brace the winds

With faces white as paper.


Indigo-hued twilight falls

And lengthy shadows creep,

To duly warn the waiting world

Of winter’s coming sleep.


Emma H, age 26, 27/09/2017

My Muse


Why is it that I find my muse

In heartbreak, grief and sadder news?

In melancholic reflection,

In festering fears and rejection?

Perhaps because I’ve naught to lose

In poems that reveal my blues,

And at my deepest, darkest lows

I find relief in rhyme and prose;

Cathartic creativity

Releases pain and sets me free.


Emma Hyde, age 26, 04/01/2017

I wrote this one after my boyfriend remarked that many of my poems have a similar sad or “depressing” theme… But I think that poetry is a great outlet for those kinds of emotions! And if they encourage emotional responses or empathy in the reader, then I feel I have succeeded as a poet 🙂

Dawn Chorus – A Haiku

Songbirds chirp and croon,

Gift to greet the breaking dawn,

Bright and joyous tune!

Emma H, age 26, 22/09/2017


A haiku for Colleen’s Weekly Poetry Challenge No. 51 – “gift” & “song”. To take part or find out more, you can follow the link below:

Colleen’s Weekly #Poetry Challenge No. 51 #Haiku #Tanka #Haibun: GIFT & SONG

This is the first time I have taken part in Colleen’s challenge but hopefully I will be contributing more regularly from now on 🙂




Come wander through the orchard

The blossoms are in bloom

So pretty yet so fleeting

Their beauty gone too soon


Have patience ‘til the autumn

When the fruits are fully ripe

Heavy branches laden

With apples of every type


Don’t stretch for the shiniest

Gleaming up on high

Their bright sheen is deceptive

And they will not satisfy


Don’t settle for the easiest

Dropped upon the ground

Their texture is unpleasant

There are better to be found


The best are always within reach

Ready to be picked

One there will take your fancy

Perfectly imperfect


A subtle dose of sweetness

And the right amount of bite

Let me be the apple

To fulfil your appetite.


Emma H, age 26, 26/07/2017



Go now.

Get out of here.

Flee from your every fear,

Protect all that you hold dear.



Run faster.

Run until red in the face,

Hasten your steps, quicken the pace,

Closeted demons are giving chase.




Hurtle down the open path

Monsters are on the warpath

Seeking a violent bloodbath.



Keep running!

‘Til your heart is ready to pop

Never let your speed drop

They’ll catch you if you stop.



Fly away!

Towards the beckoning light

Away from the dark of night

Don’t be tempted to turn and fight.




Run on!

Run from the relentless pursuit

And find a freedom absolute.

Don’t give them the chance to shoot.


Emma H, age 26, 10/03/2017

This poem is intended to be a lyrical/verbal/poetic representation of the Einaudi piece “Run”. It’s a beautiful tune which gradually seems to gain pace and urgency as it progresses, which I tried to capture with each stanza. I also think that it would work well as a spoken word poem. Let me know if you think it fits the music!