Beneath veils ~ part of a poem


So here I am (just back from holiday) with a teaser!

This is part of a poem, the full version is in my next eBook – out this weekend: Strange Meetings 

(as last week’s creative writing – this is pre final edit)

Beneath veils

She walks down lanes;  In silks and veils

Eyes shy and scared, and sharp as needles,

Cutting through silks; Or skin.

Her lips are hidden – With her secrets safe,

At her neck, the spirals begin.

Flowers in deep ink

Are cut and bleed & Curse her body.

She seeks a mate,  not yet met

Her wanderings are endless nights

To find the one – she is meant to have.


Lizzie HW

meet: Dave, Harry, Louise & a cat – read about their strange menage


Dave was a roofer by day, at night he was someone else entirely – he was a brutal killer.


Dave liked birds, never cats. He made do when he must for the sake of a shag. Louise was so cool and always a laugh.


They’d met years ago, one night. He’d been prowling, on the pull – out for a kill. She’d killed him first, a stake to the heart.


She had a cat. It was unfortunate. But the cat kept its distance, as if it knew it wasn’t top of the tree, except when it climbed one.


Then, to Harry, their mild mannered friend. Always so sweet, so polite. But he is a demon. And it’s his nature to hunt.


Now: Dave was out prowling, Harry was hunting and Louise was dressed up for a glittering ball. Well a work presentation.


And it’s Saturday, a day full of laughs, not quite evening but still that bewitched few hours that last and last.


Giggling and swaying atop spiked heels, Louise was a tower ready to fall. Her crown slipped, later that afternoon.


In a grim room of nine by ten – they had done it. Panting and sweating, a momentary bliss. All over by 3pm with a half-hearted kiss.


Soiled on the outside and hiding stains within, each crept away; as if they’d never been. But, someone had seen. Or rather something.


Two eyes blinked in the cool dusky light and continued to stalk on scents of more prey. Later, there would be an exchange.


Sharing tit for tats and switching sides. Animals and demons are always easy friends.


It came with a howl, the betrayal, announced over dinner by a petulant cat. He knew where she’d been, what she’d done & with what.


He screeched it all out. Wails hit the walls. There were scratches and bites. He was put out –


Louise trembled and quivered but her secret was safe. Dave hated cats,,,


So they lived fairly happy, making ends meet. Dave kept on killing and the cat kept on living.


Oh but demons do have hearts and his was trapped so they met every Saturday afternoon. In a grim little room.


They sweated and panted and never swore love. Louise knew it, though, deep down and in every part of her.


And still Harry kept on hunting – because his nature overruled his heart.


  *menage is a French word and relates to a household

And the ‘something that saw’ is up to your imagination! But even cats & demons like to gossip…

Lizzie HW







Meekly seeking / a poem


I am: Weakened


Needing a hand

To lift me higher than I can manage alone.

 Faintly folding in on myself

Holding out for a hero, of course!

And better

If their arrival is upon a white horse!

Tears streaming

Will be wiped away

With a firm hand

And a luscious smile

That takes one’s breath away.


Oh – the hope and joy

Of finding the saviour

The one.


I wish it

I dream it

But am I a fool?

Evading my reality

For the illusions of someone new

And exciting

To tear me apart.


I look, in the moving pictures

For the ideal image

The perfect partner

But they are merely actors

With their smooth hair

And smoother lines

Practiced too far

Not real.


So, each day I look out into

Seas of faces, strangers

With a shimmer of


That one of them

Will look back at me

And they will be captivated.


Recognise an injured soul

Who is full of hope

And has love to give

If the right seeker comes along.


I see around me

The couples, families made


From singledom

To stardom.


Some so quick!

I forget

How most met

A chance stumble, a date

A work event…


Old college mates.

For me these options seem too



I am timid and meek

For that is the sum of me

But I will accept

With open arms

The rescuer

Who can take me from this, my dour world

Where I do not fit.


And maybe, upon a white horse

With wind streaming back her hair

She will come

To lift me from my despair.


~~~~  this twists the traditional romance seen so often, a weak woman waits for her Knight to save her; here the one seeking could be male or female and the Saviour is female. It is still about love. And the weakness isn’t about being ‘female’ but about a mix of feeling insecure, lonely and shy – those are emotions that every person experiences at some time in their life (even the ones who pretend they don’t!).




I love you / a short piece


[from my next eBook anthology]

“I love you. I do though you don’t notice or realise, it seems.

I am ever present, close to you. I surround you, remaining unseen, undetected too. I would like you to notice me. Still love is blind, I hear them say, in whispers between sheets and at the corners of dim lit streets where exchanges are made. I am not of them, not that kind at all. My love is pure. I do not seek anything.

I am part of you, this moment at least. To you, a passing breeze on your skin. To me – a lifetime. As you breathe – I live.

In. Out. In. Out. Each lung fills with air, your sustenance and I slip inside. I am part of you now.

I would like to have a presence to touch your skin, share a closeness that you deserve. I sense your desire but I cannot act on it, I am at pity to reveal. And I see others, plain and open! With limbs entwined in summer lawns, hands held firm and safe for crossing roads. Or quiet and alone, stripped bare so flesh feels flesh and senses burn.

Some share secrets, dreams and hopes and pledge a truth in that moment when the depths of minds are shown raw and emotions flow in rivers red. I cannot give you that – I am sorry.

I have some belief, not in God or eternal life. I have met them both and we didn’t agree on the terms of my existence. Still I am here, in this state.

So I must leave again and drift away to another place and state and time, perhaps we’ll meet again in another world. Maybe there we can be something that is real?

Until then, or never, if that’s the way of things – know this, at least – but I love you.”

by Elizabeth Haley-Wood (will feature in Strange Meetings out on Amazon later this year)