Reading and writing have always been a part of who I am.

photo by Deena Thomson

Reading and writing has always been a part of who I am. Strange considering I am severely hard of hearing and dyslexic, but here I am in a new chapter of life still going strong doing both. Maybe it’s because I am a Northerner, born and raised in Ontario, Canada. My home and native land. Both activities are the best on a cold day, and well, we are a tough stock. We keep on going even if the cold gets to you. We don’t give up.

I wrote my first story at five years old and sold it to my…

A poem

Photo by W R from Pexels

There’s a power in each step you take
A motion,
I can see you shake

It is written
how you walk
Eyes glancing nervously
at the clock
I can see it on your face
That this time there will be no mistake

You’re walking out the door
You’ve had enough
Can’t take any more

I can see you refusing to cry
I get it
You’re a guy

You’ve been down
oh so long
Trying to deal
with all my crazy emotions

Honey, you’ve been so strong
Inching closer and closer
out the door

You don’t dare look behind at me

A Poem

Photo by Adam Kontor from Pexels

Do you remember that day?
That Fall lazy day
When you reached your hand
to help me stand?

It was in the park, still lushes green
My heart opened up
like a running brook

We could have played there
all-day long

But it started to cloud
and the sky turned grey
When you told me
you couldn’t stay

Broken dreams and broken promises
you lied when you held me
in your arms

Told me you would hold me for life
but forgot to mention
You had a wife


I remember your touch
Oh God so soft
I thought I…

A Poem

Photo by cottonbro from Pexels

My Mother said so many things to me
You were my father
Was one of these ridiculous things

You said
Could he be my father?
My hair too curly
To be his daughter
My skin not milky white enough,
My eyes too dark,
Not blue like us

Over and over again
So many people
Wanting to know where I came from?
And I a child
With no homeland to be told
The story of my life
To hold

I wondered
Once upon a time
You would think I would have lingered
for a very long time

A Poem

Photo by Jess Vide from Pexels

Here I am
Standing alone

By myself
My hands are released
No longer constrained

The sky is a different color of blue
Who knew?

Is it the color?
Or is it me?
Suddenly free

It’s like walking on air but my feet touch the ground
Solid and firm
Heart, soul, and mind

I did not know Sky so blue?
I don’t think I ever had time to notice you
I promise you this and the clouds up above
I will notice your curling colorful hues of love

Interesting the birds swirling
through the different shades of blue up high

A Poem

Photo by Engin Akyurt from Pexels

I can’t not breath
I feel like I am choking
And it forces me to see

I have wasted
So much of my life
Trying to be perfect
For other people’s lives

Hey Mama?
Your puppet to play
Hey husband?
Doll on display
Hey little children?
Grown-up and gone away

Here I am choking
Noticing the days gone away
I am broken
Too old to try again

I keep thinking
I am still young enough to begin
But I am a fool
Lost in a world that’s left me behind

No doors are open
For a woman…

A poem

Photo by Rodrigo Feksa from Pexels

You don’t know me
Even though you have woken
besides me half your life

You don’t own me
just because you took me as wife

You thought I was a piece of ass
the woman to show off to the class
but baby you got that wrong
I am a person all my own

You use to scowl at me
now you are begging for me to come back
you talked with distaste to me
like I was something gross
something to be detest

So go
Walk with your sorry eyes
Take your words you once prized

Talk to…

A Poem

Photo by Aldo Picaso from Pexels

She walks through the jungle
Elephants on either side
Talks to the elephants
Their ears, flapping high

Hair flying around her
Their ears blowing it from atop
The elephants are stirring
the jungle floor up

Hidden between their folds
almost never seen
She is the one to lead them
out of the strangling weeds

She keeps them steady
untangled in the grass
no elephant is left behind
no one giant is last

Raising a hand high
tell them to shhhhh
She is going to make sure
every one of them makes it through

She watches for the little ones
coming two…

Deena Thomson

Writer, runner, lover of nature, audiobook addict. Poems, short stories, novels, daily thoughts, and fiction. Run be free.

Get the Medium app

A button that says 'Download on the App Store', and if clicked it will lead you to the iOS App store
A button that says 'Get it on, Google Play', and if clicked it will lead you to the Google Play store