Inexperienced – A Tanka



A heart that’s playful,

Body lustful, afire love,

Young passion blooming;

Excitement of something new

Courses hot through burning veins.


A heart that’s lifeless,

Body untouched, veins run cold,

Young love extinguished;

The new-felt pain of heartache

Like frostbite stinging the soul.


Emma H, age 26, 20/09/2017


A double tanka for Kiwinana’s Weekly Tanka Challenge – Week 63 – “cold & “playful”. You can find out more or read other entries here:

Weekly Tanka Prompt Challenge – Week 63 – Playful & Cold




Scarlet eyes aglow

Ignited by

Late nights and

Errant photo flashes

I arose

At the twilight

Urged by bloodlust

Creature of the night

Fuelled by the scent

Of potential prey

Skittish and elusive

I remained unfed

Hunger unsatiated

Starved of company

Parched heart

Unbeating alone

As the sun awoke

Cowering from

The blinding light of day.


I was your

Innocent vampiress

Cloaked in mystery

Secrets unexplored

My spotless smile

Alluring, seductive

Pointed teeth

Carefully concealed

And a carnal desire

To tear hot flesh

I struck

My crimson lips

Pressed to your neck

Caught by the jugular

Fangs steeped

In sanguine love

Dripping from my chin

Gorging on fresh life

My helpless victim.



We became

Undead together

Sharing shadows

Roaming the night

Fiery passion

Coursing through our veins

Feasting on

Secrets and stories

Devouring and drinking

Until drained dry

Sustenance consumed

You took wing

A lone hunter

Seeking new blood

Fresh territory

Your parting words

Sharp as a stake

Through this vampiress’ heart.


Emma H, age 26, 30/08/2017



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

Tradition – #writephoto


I wandered along the puddle-drenched promenade, head bowed against the bitter coastal breeze, hands jammed firmly in my coat pockets. It was a late winter afternoon and the weather had chopped and changed all day. The last rain shower had chased off the seaside strollers, so I was alone, save for the squawk of a buffeted seagull out at sea.

I sat on a damp bench and gazed out at the horizon. The fading sun was attempting to break through the shapeshifting clouds, sunbeams shining spotlights on patches of the rough grey sea. Despite the gloom, it was still a beautiful sight. With a heavy sigh, I pulled the tiny ceramic box out of my pocket and opened it to the wind, which snatched the ashes within and scattered them out towards the ocean.

Every year at Christmastime we had come here. We’d spent many hours here, in all weathers, relaxing on our favourite bench and admiring the boundless view. When the tide was low we would paddle our feet, laughing as the icy cold Atlantic tickled our toes. And no matter how much we were shivering, we would always buy an ice-cream. It was tradition.

My wife had died four years ago, quietly, in her sleep. But each year I still came here and brought her with me to share the view. It gave me peace to know that she could become part of our favourite place, at one with the elements.

Aged joints creaking, I got to my feet and plunged my withered hands back into my pockets. Time to buy that 99 with flake.


Emma H, age 26, 12/09/2017


Today’s short story was written in response to Sue Vincent’s “Fading” #writephoto challenge. If you’d like to participate or read other entries, you can follow the link below:

Thursday photo prompt – Fading #writephoto

This week’s photo has captured both bright and gloomy weather so I wanted to include both elements in my story. Thanks Sue for the photo prompt 🙂


Whether mean drunken slurs

Or harsh sober words

You’ve accused and you’ve cussed

Driven by your mistrust

And I’ve taken the blows

As your paranoia shows

In spite of each kiss

You still see me like this

As a harlot and liar

Controlled by my desire

A cheat and untrue

Playing games with you

You’re convinced that I’ve lied

Though I’ve nothing to hide

So your unfounded fears

Are the cause of my tears.


Now the cold morning mist

Echoes words that you hissed

And your stubborn silence

Is as hurtful as violence

Why can’t you accept

That my promises are kept?

Why won’t you believe

That I’ll never deceive?

These words that you’ve said

Are the tricks of your head

These suspicions at night

You must learn to fight

Or your claims that I stray

Will push me away.


Emma Hyde, age 25, 30/10/2016


I am a jigsaw puzzle,



With vital pieces plucked

And irretrievably scattered

By ruthless players.

I appear incomplete,

Wounded, punctured,

Flawed, damaged goods.

I will never be picture perfect.

But if you struggle to

Figure me out,

Piece me together,

Know that you can

Fill the gaps

With a love

That binds, unites,

Holds firm.

Just please,

Whatever you do,

Don’t give up on me.

Or else,

I will fall apart



Emma H, age 26, 29/03/2017