Fog and Fire Dragons

Fog and Fire Dragons


Oh to thee, fog dragons that live at sea.
And that dwell on land.
Battle they occasionally rage,
On the coast and our beaches.
When the fog dragons creep ashore.
They hide and they take.
They deform and misshape.
Until they gain the upper hand.
They blow whispy and clammy breath.
They sniggle and snirk at those who lurk,
Under their foggy onslaught.
The mocking, the fire dragons hate.
Fly in with all of a rage.
Battle does commence.
Blowing warm air and bright light,
The fire dragons fight.
Ultimately the fog dragons’ retreat
Light and warmth return to the land.



© Kristina Jackson 2014


Of a heart is made

Oh the wiles and trials of which a heart is made.
Of treacherous feelings, pain and ache.
To know its true feelings is a game that has to be played.
Taking down the layers, shaving away the hate.
Getting rid of the fear of what is beneath.
Trusting your feelings, getting rid of disbelief.
What it is we really want is sometimes what we fear most.
Just like the willing antisocial party host.
When it dances unbidden and leaps for joy.
It makes us feel happy and sometimes a little coy.
All of these things a loving heart is made.

©Kristina Jackson 2014 

Where snowdrops sleep

Where Snowdrops Sleep

Walking through a woodland glade,
On a hazy summers day.
Unaware beneath your feet
Is where snowdrops sleep.

As Autumn leaves begin to fall,
From the trees, onto the ground beneath.
This is an early wake up call
To awaken snowdrops from there sleep.

Winter’s here you sleepy things,
Pop up and taste the air.
Up to brave the winter you go
Come on snowdrops, its nearly time to sing.

In late winter, early spring,
They realise it is time to sing.
Upwards towards the cloudy sky,
No longer do snowdrops sleep.

Time to sing and shine.
The snowdrops catch your eye.
Pure white against the blackest sky.
Snowdrops neither bold nor shy.

Now warmer sun has come,
Their show is done.
So under you go down beneath,
Where snowdrops sleep

© Kristina Jackson 2007



In mellow autumn sunshine the garden glows,
The apple and the pear tree grow.
Spiders weave their webs all-slender.
Harvesting the flies, so nice and tender.

Twilight falls and mist gather.
The wildlife stops for a natter.
In then darkness troops,
Allowing Owls to hunt and bats to swoop.

The time for bounty is almost through.
Soon frost will replace the morning dew.
As the sunsets another fine day,
Enjoy, for Autumn is not hear to stay!

Kristina Jackson 2013 

Young-Old Woman

Young-old woman

I look in the mirror,
What do I see?
A young-old woman,
Looking back at me.

Echoes of her hopes,
Shadows of her fears.
Lines from a smile,
Tracks from her tears.

Seeing dreams that were lost,
Ambitions still to be gained.
Pains that have been suffered,
Joys that have been obtained.

With laughter in her throat,
Curses on her voice.
She’s a mother, a lover.
Happy or sad, its her choice

With life still ahead of her,
And her past behind her.
This young-old woman
Looks back out at me.

©Kristina Jackson 2014