Poetry - Lynn White

  Midlife Crises She was already at the midpoint of her life when she gave birth,   though of course, she didn’t know it then, and was happy to light another roll up. It was a difficult birth.   Even though the baby was small her insides were smaller and the effort burst blood vessels in her legs which would cause ulcers throughout the rest of her life, but the healthy child growing up was her joy and consolation. She had married late to a much older man, a widower already past the midpoint of his life and of course, he knew it even then, but what could he do but light another roll up. At his life’s midpoint his first child had died so the healthy child brought him joy and consolation and he cared for both while he could. Her life went on, only the first half done. Both halves were hard but she loved and was loved in the best and worst of times. In both halves of her life she was whole. https://dimlywritlit.wixsite.com/journal/winter-2026

  Standing Stones They stood in line as far as the eye could see the sand rippling beneath them. They’d been there for millennia, so it was said, Built by an ancient people, so it was said, so many theories   as to how or why. But still   they stood standing still. And then they rose, just a little. So many theories   as to how or why. And then they rose again as the clouds came down to meet them. https://fourfeatherspress.blogspot.com/2026/02/72-poets-and-artists-being-published-in.html

  Silenced It’s all you can hear now the journalists are silenced. It’s all you can see now the placards are forbidden. It’s all you can hear now Other voices are silenced. It’s all you can see now the flags are forbidden. Truth lies buried in silence. https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0GM743LW7/

  A Child’s View It’s a child’s view of winter, a comfortable child’s view of Christmas-card victoriana with no dark side visible, only the bright side allowed. So there’s no smoke pollution and no hungry children running, ragged   and barefoot in rubbish strewn streets. Only the bright side is allowed in the Christmas card winter that still we wait for. https://ourpoetryarchive.blogspot.com/2026/03/lynn-white.html

  In The Theatres Of The Absurd In the theatres   from Washington to Westminster the political players are taking the stage ready to play their parts and speaking on cue   as directed by their part in a government where ethics are as dead as genocide, where ethics never existed, just like genocide, where ethics are deader   than Rosencrantz and Gildenstern and only the absurd still lives. https://ourpoetryarchive.blogspot.com/2026/03/lynn-white.html