top of page
  • Lynn White

Story Tellers

I’ll tell my stories. My life stories. My rememberings, meanderings never written down, but taken in for telling. Waiting now to be put outside again. I’ll tell my stories. I’ll put the inside out. See if I can find my lost past self and hold it still for a snap shot to be taken. But my dream stories, were never outside. They’re the secret ones. Unrevealed staying inside.

Maybe later I’ll tell my dream stories, let you into them, put them in the mix. Let you get lost in there, as I did. And then all of you will see all of me, maybe. Later, there’ll only be my stories. I’ll be part of your stories then. Or will I be lost, still lost. Lost in them.


 
About the Author

Lynn White lives in North Wales. Her work is influenced by issues of social justice and events, places and people she has known or imagined. She is especially interested in exploring the boundaries of dream, fantasy and reality. She was shortlisted in the Theatre Cloud 'War Poetry for Today' competition and has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize, Best of the Net and a Rhysling Award. Find Lynn at: https://lynnwhitepoetry.blogspot.com and https://www.facebook.com/Lynn-White-Poetry-1603675983213077/


12 views

Recent Posts

See All

I stepped on a praying mantis yesterday, the act unintentional, irreversible, my apologies sincere, profuse. Can the dead forgive? All that was once inside the worshipper now lay atop the pavement, as

if yellow were a scent it would be this top note of sunshine the first to fade heart note something like basil base note clover, or cedar I forget how I learned this and I couldn’t say why some random

the deepest wounds are caused by those we thought loved us, but only used us instead; those who wasted our time, our love, and our affection— they say not to regret it, but i do; wish i had spent the

bottom of page