http://slow.writerscafe.org/Lathen The original writings of author Lathen Griffiths en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776029580 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 Diary entry 293 http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lathen/2866671/ Today I saw a butterfly,She helped me fly away,I had no words to utter why? there were no words to say. She flew up to the majesty, Of the bluest sky, Then landed on a Dandelion,To watch the world go by. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lathen/2846999/ A stutter of traffic noiseand the day’s begun,like a left jab from Muhammad Ali,There’s no sitting ringside no waiting around, it’s time to get up and get at them,for when you’re not sparringyou’re fighting, and when you’re not fighting you&.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lathen/2846969/ Do not pursue the past. Do not lose yourself in the future. Looking deeply at life as it is in the very here and now, the practitioner dwells in stability and freedom. Bhaddekaratta Sutta http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lathen/2833058/ A little something for Halloween/Samhain 🎃👻🎃 http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lathen/2832456/ Early mornings are like an untouched blanket of snow,for when I rise before the dawn, I can feel my footsteps crunchinto a freshly fallen day. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lathen/2830888/ I asked a sparrow,“what are you pecking for?”she said,“morsels.”I asked a beggar, “what are you begging for?”he said,“morsels.” I asked the Devil,“what are you here for?”he said,“more-souls!” http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lathen/2830634/ There is a breeze through the treesthat whispers “September”reminding the leavesit soon will be time;they sigh with regretthat summer is overthey rustle and argue,“we’re still in our prime!”but the oak knows how coldness can weigh on its shouldershow.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lathen/2828365/ Yesterday passed me by like a canal barge in a bathtub and left me with the knowledge that I’ll be mopping up for days.I don’t think that apologies will make up for the mess I madeI don’t think that apologies can take words back again. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lathen/2827393/ Ivy-evergreen,still wraps around the bough,the boughstill grows from the tree;the treeis still rooteddeep in the ground,where we stoodmy love and me. The skyever blue,on its own, up above,still reachesdown to the sea, the waves still rollInto the shore,where we st.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lathen/2827209/ If I, consumed by worry,Simply wave my life away,being always in a hurry,haring, dashing through each daynever ever blue sky pondering,full of peppy… pithy… praisebestowed upon companions who are lost within my gazeappreciating nothing,only ever moving on,and ra.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lathen/2826976/ I stole by guards at midnight’s gateinto the early hours,tip toeing through a maze of doors, passages and towers,along a crooked hallway, - pentin by the darkness deep,fore stepping out into the lightescaping free from sleep. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lathen/2826858/ Earlier, before I beganit was later than I thoughttime you see had runtoo quickly to be caught so I’ll have to move myself and get a few things done I can’t put off no longer what I haven’t yet begun. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lathen/2826836/ Breadcrumbs led me here this morning, I was lucky for the early birds we’re catching worms,Whilst they lay in their beds, dreaming of dirt. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lathen/2826833/ The ink that was scrapedall over the paper,left only squiggles the colour of damsons, my favourite fruit that’s made into jam,and right at this moment that’s right where I am.For a quill that is brokeis no more a feather,and featherless fowls can’t reach for.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lathen/2826606/ It was a stilly night, with darkness investing itself so heavily into every corner of my hometown, that it held the majority share of its streets and doorways, cradling the elderly behind drawn curtains,with candles snuffed out and eyelids weighed down,opaque like alabaster stone.Rats ha.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lathen/2826446/ A sky full of starsso soulless lost and cold, what else except for sullen eyeswould want to linger there,oblivious to warmer dreamsheld soft upon the air.I breathe, I breathe, I so bequeath my wishes all for you,so you may gaze upon those starsand see their beauty too, yet .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lathen/2825790/ Anger had its pyjamas on and was sat twiddling its toes in a pair of old, well worn, crimson red slippers, finding its feet as it were. It had been loafing around for sometime on a rather uncomfortable nineteenth century armchair, trying to light a pipe with the fumes that were emanating from its .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lathen/2825762/ Towers of clocks besieged my childhood! “Why were such scary itemsgiven such friendly names and placed in the homes of such wonderful people?” I pondered such questions way back when. I was probably five or six years old at the time, quiet,inquisitive,and maybe suff.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lathen/2825555/ Remember yellow morningsand orange afternoonsfor soon the sun won’t shine its light, reminiscent of your youth. And light we held so truthful Will for certain slip away And leave us knowing the past was just a thoughtwe held today. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lathen/2823414/ Mmmmmm? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lathen/2818889/ Silken strands of sleepsuspend these soft unwoven dreams, nestled safe in slumberfloating on unconscious streams, come evening, a little boatdeparts amidst moonbeams. The winds that blow eternalfill the sails that push it on, celestial or infernalare the waves it rolls upon, th.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lathen/2818368/ I was…Scouted by the wind and the rain,marched through a puddle of pain,recruited by the mud and the dirt,a foot upon a road of hurt.Dissected from the grey matter of sanity, spun into the garments of vanity.Kicked by the heels of persuasion, blinkered on every occasion.Se.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lathen/2813231/ Should I put pen to paperto fill these blank marauding spacesand cut down this enemy called emptiness that waits dormant in such places.Do I need a pen or a mantelet, to bring to you these words today?I’ve seen many speak of loveAs a battle between the sexesOf hoodoo dolls an.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lathen/2812396/ Blackbirdswhistle tunes, to mark the beginningsof a new day,or the demiseof a long night. I knowthese things,for I haveheardthematfirstlight. ©️2022 Lathen Griffiths http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lathen/2812146/ One morning, as the sun shimmies over the horizon, lighting my eyes full with a thousand jewels, of a thousand lifetimes pastand a thousand yet to come,I shall write a poem about one single night, for my love longs for darkness And one evening whilst the moon chaperones his sweethe.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lathen/2811901/ Under cinnamon sticks wearing green berets,that’s where I’ll spend my summer days,hoping to find some welcome shade,because freckles and speckles in heat are made.So lay me low of that old suns glare, peaceful and quiet, come sit with me there,beneath the boughs of some gr.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lathen/2811595/ . 🤔 http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lathen/2811572/ Night time was setting a fire to my thoughts for me to inhale;they tasted of sleep and darkness, of left over dreams, stale from being forgotten;like a loaf of bread that has been left in the back of a cupboardfor so long, that it begins to take on a new life of its own. I sat quietly .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lathen/2811468/ True love painted from memorywith pigments, vintage and hued,pastels and watercolours that with time have become more subduedA brush mark denotes where tears ranand were wiped away, gently pursued by the hand of a caring lover,who left not a tear to be viewedFramed with tender co.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lathen/2811226/ Time is no-bodies friendexcept for the undertakerssaying thateven the undertakershave to be taken undersooner or laterhencetime is no friend to no-body. ©️ 2022 Lathen Griffiths http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lathen/2810602/ There was a meltdown at my local butchers store today.Thomas Chiselwick and fearless Fredrico had gotten themselves into a wrangling match over a bag full of pork sausages.Eventually they shared its contents and agreed that they had no beef. ©️ 2022 Lathen Griffiths http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lathen/2810546/ Above the crisscrossed roofs and chimneys coal smoke towers form a tusk,that rise as high as sails on sail boatsand block the light before the dusk,that fog o’er yonder will don its thick coatonce the sun is slain,my iron lungs will cough it upand breathe it in again. Beneath.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lathen/2810256/ The wind blows her name, carrying it gently through the leaves of the trees,as delicate as a lover’s whisper,it finds the ears of those who listen, but those souls who hear what is softly spoken,are few and far between.The long grass in the meadow bows at her feet,But she is too .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lathen/2810071/ On windy days when trees are blowing, prepared to lose a limb,I walk beneath the largest bough and wonder with a whim,if it were to fall right now, my chances would be slim,I carry on regardless, humming a Christian hymn,yet if that bough should really break my ending would be gr.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lathen/2809596/ They placed my head inside a box for near on twenty years,to halt the wind from blowing others voices to my ears,with sticking plasters on my eyesand duct tape on my mouth,to prevent me seeing north or west and stop me calling south.Yet mute and blind and listlessI could feel the ris.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lathen/2809581/ My heart is with the people of Ukraine. 🇺🇦 http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lathen/2809432/ I overheard a conversation in which someone was complaining because they couldn’t make up their mind on which pair of shoes to wear because they had so many. I thought, ‘Oh you poor thing’. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lathen/2805994/ The Starlight Express arrived this morning,It awoke me, sprightly, brightly and although it was already late, much to my favour, (I’d chose to lie in and savour, two moments more, not being an early morning riser)all that sleep, had left me none the wiser. I’d only wished I c.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lathen/2803955/ Your heads a big topwith a travelling show,a circus you take with youwherever you go,your mind delights, as the band starts to play,you open your eyes, and your on your way. There’s a tightrope that’s stretched like a string through the airwith thoughts that are balance.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lathen/2803886/ Fictitious diary entry. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lathen/2803538/ Memories of a lovers kissWhile autumn turns the world to goldRemind me of the lips I missMemories of a lovers kissWhat fool am I to dwell on this?Our fortunes they have been foretoldMemories of a lovers kissWhile autumn turns the world to gold. ©️ 2022 Lathen Griffith.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lathen/2803327/ Oh paper clip your curly bendshave saved me trouble to no ends.You teensy-Weensy ace device,you looped shaped beauty paper splice.When I’m in need of a paper grip,Your handier than a bulldog clip.Better than a pin or clamp,in stationary you are the champ.Never brash, loud o.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lathen/2803198/ Pillar box redCreosote brownthese are the colours you’ll see in this town.red brick dust,comes down with the rain Mr Fernández is crying againA room with a view of a wall in an alley the children beloware going doolallyCould do with a drinkbut I’ll have.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lathen/2802404/ A few simple words A kiss on the cheekA heavy sighA quivering lipThe bravest of smilesA tearful eyeA hug for a friend A trembling handA wave goodbye©️ 2022 Lathen Griffiths http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lathen/2802356/ A cold winters day. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lathen/2802100/ Listen,Listen,There it is,There it is,There’s an echo, There’s an echo,Can you hear it?Can you hear it?Hello,Hello,La la la, La la la,There’s an echo,There’s an echo,Echo.Echo.©️ 2021 Lathen Griffiths http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lathen/2801625/ T’was a blast from the past blew in that night. I stood berated by the embers of yesteryears tongues, solemn, serrated recants fumbled through the darkness,plummeting down the steep spiralling staircase, into the hellish gloom, to where only the cruelest of words that others can muste.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lathen/2801449/ Lately sleep evades memy eyes they seldom close,I wish they would shut out the night;delight in sweet repose.These dark wee hours hold nothing newmy eyes would wish to see,so why won’t they just let me dreama dream of her and me.Instead they face the darknessin some eternal.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lathen/2801061/ When you hear it put that way, don’t it make you want to live? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lathen/2800971/