http://slow.writerscafe.org/HelenVincent The original writings of author Helen en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776011597 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 strangers meet like shipsand steal fleeting kissesamidst the opportunitiesand missed understandingsthey stand their groundwhile waves threatento carry them awayto ancient landswhere spirits liveand ancestors still rulethey claim their freedomstand on the shorefixed firm like sandshifting and shaping.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HelenVincent/2765589/ Meaning shifts like sandeffervescent lithesome interpretationlike bubbles floatsand drifts awayelusive http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HelenVincent/2765513/ My soul’s like spring garden, seeds sprouting and showing;Briars, bracken and bramble, needs a good pruning.My soul’s like a poem, lively and loving;Deep, dark, near hidden, just can't quite see it.My soul’s like my bicycle, carries me to far places;Punctures, snapped cables, have .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HelenVincent/2765212/ Lizzie turned around to see who was speaking and stopped still when she saw no-one was there again. This had been happening more frequently lately and this time she was angry about the constant torment that she had to endure. “They’re just bullies” she thought, trying to bring to m.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HelenVincent/2764919/ A celebration of a new style, stepping out of my comfort zone to celebrate Imbolc http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HelenVincent/2764839/ OMG, blushing just at the thought of posting this! But I can't resist a challenge and who knows, there may be a greater cosmic reason behind it. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HelenVincent/2764825/ If you look close enough the magic of the Universe is everywhere. This is a story about it working through a stranger on a bus. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HelenVincent/2764775/ A sample chapter from my short fiction book (My name is Helen and I am) http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HelenVincent/2764701/ Just writing about my experiences while finding my poetic voice - these are today's experiences! http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HelenVincent/2764693/ A poem about the poetry that took me over at work this week! http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HelenVincent/2764653/ Short thoughts from this morning's walk http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HelenVincent/2764259/ Trying out new patterns, influenced by poems I've been reading (((you know who you are))). Justice not done, but this his poem is a mix of me, a little of you and a sort of serious Dr Seuss I think! http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HelenVincent/2764124/ Observations on poetry in the WritersCafe, or a poem written around the phrase "culturally specific poetry", which kept coming into my head. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HelenVincent/2762614/ First new poem written since joining WritersCafe - an attempt to improve on my style while musing on what that means and relapsing just a little into my repetitive style! http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HelenVincent/2762205/ A poem about the experiences of a Wounded Child http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HelenVincent/2762125/ Helping my child to heal... a poem written as an antidote to 'Oh Shame! Oh Pain!" (which features in the book 'Reflections from difficult times') http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HelenVincent/2762124/ Lighthearted, but true account of a walk from Bedfordshire to Norfolk http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HelenVincent/2762120/ A poem about the joy of the journey http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HelenVincent/2762119/ Inspired by long ago conversation about whether the word 'crap' is a swear word. "Well I wouldn't say it in front of my dad" says I, eliciting the response: "Who's your dad, the bloody Pope?" http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HelenVincent/2762118/ A poem describing the wonder of discovering the child within http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HelenVincent/2762117/ Companion to "Reflections from difficult times", this collection of poetry emerged out of the darkness and into the light http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HelenVincent/2762115/ Walking can be healing for the mind, but sometimes hard on the body. The sore foot in this poem is an expression of emotional as well as physical pain. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HelenVincent/2762051/ A poem about the effects of low self-esteem and the realisation that it shouldn't be this way http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HelenVincent/2762050/ A poem about the generational life cycle in a dysfunctional family system http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HelenVincent/2762048/ Poem about a chance meeting on a bus that led to the realisation that ignoring pain from the past will not make it go away. We all need to acknowledge and process our hurts. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HelenVincent/2762046/ Troubled writing, Troubled times, Trouble,strain and strife.  Searching writing, Searching times, Searchingall my life. Changing writing, Changing times, Change andsacrifice.Loving writing, Loving times, Love will see me through. Loving writing, Loving times, Love.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HelenVincent/2762044/ You left me!You did!I was just a little kid!You left me!Alone!In a house but not a home!You left me!To cry!I felt that I could die!I'm angry!That kid!That little little kid!You left me!You did!I was just a little kid! http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HelenVincent/2762042/ A short collection of poetry written during a period of depression http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HelenVincent/2762040/ A poem about lasting depression http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HelenVincent/2762038/ And so it was that the fifty two year old woman found herself at Dane Hills as if it were the most natural thing in the world to be there, seeking the witch from tales of old. The woman looked around her at the narrow terraced houses that had been built in the late nineteenth century, and felt that .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HelenVincent/2761837/ Helen stared at the leather pouch that was hanging from the branches of the tree in her garden. It was tiny, but perfectly and skilfully stitched and crafted. She couldn’t really imagine how it had got there, but she lifted it down, feeling its power in her hand, despite how small it was. Unbi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HelenVincent/2761835/ And so it was that Helen and Michael were together at the end of the dark days, and they had their own share of soul sickness to overcome. But it was through their trials that the truth was revealed, little by little, as the light shone through. Helen found comfort and healing in ritual, and in.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HelenVincent/2761834/ Helen entered the room where the meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous was being held. She knew she needed help, but had it really come to this? Someone handed her a cup of tea in a dirty cup, and lovingly directed her to a seat next to a small woman with grey hair. “I'm Mary” the woman a.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HelenVincent/2761833/ The year was 1988, and few remembered Dark Lord Pompadour, but his hold on the land was still strong. Most people still believed in his legacy, in the proper order of things, in the inevitability of power and money as deciding factors for a person's station in life, and in the dominance of a system .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HelenVincent/2761831/ Her mother leaving had almost broken Helen, and she stayed alive mainly because she looked forward to her nightly encounters with the two small spirits who lived inside her, and who both told her very clearly, and firmly, that her mother had not left because of her. At times, she almost believed the.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HelenVincent/2761829/ The next day Jim Dolan took his two daughters for a walk, far enough and long enough for his wife to leave. Helen couldn't remember if her father had spoken to her that day, or if he had made her tea when they returned to the empty house, or if he had kissed her goodnight. But she did remember .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HelenVincent/2761827/ And so it was that Helen grew, with love and without love. And the harshness of her name, and the loneliness of her life were softened by the messages that she received from time to time, and the knowledge that she was never alone. Helen's young years were not the hardest of childhood years. Sh.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HelenVincent/2761825/ Blood splattered onto the ceiling in the small semi-detached house. The child, blue from strangulation, let out a gasp and a cry, as the cord that had wrapped itself around her tiny neck was cut. The year was 1966, and these events had passed before, but because time is not linear, there was no reas.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HelenVincent/2761823/ Taking a single giant leap, the frog took Leana to the tree, and to joyful reunion with her friends. Leana was becoming more accustomed to the magic, and to the lows and highs of her emotions and of her journey, but she was always surprised by the intensity of her love for Wounded Child. The two gir.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HelenVincent/2761821/ Leana followed Garsoon’s instructions, and sure enough, she soon found herself in the bowels of the castle. Nothing in her life or experience had prepared her for this. Nothing could compare, not even the gruesome events she had witnessed at Black Annis’ cave. In these dungeons, deep bel.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HelenVincent/2761811/ The group hastened to make their escape, safe in the knowledge - for now at least - that Lord Pompadour was not in a position to follow them. He would be hindered by his blinded eyes, and he was certainly too large to fit through the hole and into the tunnel. As they made their way along the na.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HelenVincent/2761810/ Leana was overjoyed to see Teddy. Words could not express her relief, or her delight at her own and Wounded Child’s reunion with their maverick spirit guide. “But the giant frog?” she asked “He is ok, isn’t he?” “He is indeed,” said Teddy, “.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HelenVincent/2761809/ The time had come for Leana and Wounded Child to leave the holy and healing place that had come to seem as if it were the whole world. Leana crossed to the Oak Tree to receive nourishment and blessings for the final time. In the hollow of the ancient tree, she found a small, folded piece of paper.&n.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HelenVincent/2761808/ The next thing that Leana saw was the morning sunshine, shining dappled green through the leaves of the Great Oak Tree. She felt as if she had been sleeping for a very long time, and the new day had a springtime feel. She looked around her. It was scarcely recognisable from the scene where the night.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HelenVincent/2761807/ True to her word, Leana was still sitting, very still, at the cave entrance. She clapped her hands with joy to see Wounded Child return. The two young girls hugged each other tightly. “She has agreed,” said Wounded Child, “the skin which is rightfully mine, will be returned to.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HelenVincent/2761806/ Wounded Child was no longer crying. She knew that this was what she had needed to do all along. Like Leana, she knew the stories of Black Annis, and she also had vague memories of meeting the old witch in the early days of her abandonment, or before. It was not that she was not afraid, for she was t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HelenVincent/2761805/ And so it was that Leana found herself, all alone, outside the cave where Black Annis lived. She peered into the dark, dank entrance and shuddered. It was dark and foreboding, and she was very frightened. She had heard tales about this place and the fearsome old witch who lived here. Strange smells .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HelenVincent/2761804/ For now, at least, Leana would stay close to the frog, and to Teddy, who had been her most precious and faithful companion. She felt a deep joy within her soul, but also a remnant of sadness for all the times that had been lost and now were passed. Teddy saw her sadness, and he reached up and wiped .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HelenVincent/2761797/ Long, long ago …… in a time before you knew, there were two small figures sitting by a lake and dreaming, remembering events yet to pass. One, a small girl with golden hair and dressed in white, was around six years old and her name was Leana. Her unlikely companion was a small bear, a.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HelenVincent/2761796/ Description of the book 'My name is Helen and I am' http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HelenVincent/2761795/