House Arrest

So my boyfriend’s (Matt) cat, Poppy, has had to have a trip to the vets this week. She’s fine but she’s not so pleased with the cone on her head and the fact that she’s not allowed out for the time being. This is a little comic number from her point of view. Hope you enjoy the silliness:

House Arrest

Only beds to lie upon and floors to scratch,
I thank thee not for putting me under house arrest.

You tickle my tummy and bribe me with treats
– how fickle you are if you think I’d fall for this.

This plastic you’ve placed around my neck to stop me from getting to that itch,
the door you’ve locked from stopping me have a good stretch.

Those birds I cry to
as my paws smear the glass to reach for their full fat breasts.

Instead I have this duck down duvet and cold wet meat – I could have the grass and soil, a branch or a fence.

But no,
you insist on my house arrest.

© LE Purse

19th August 2014


Loves of my Life

I know it’s been a while since I posted but I’ve had a a few weeks off to go to festivals and visit home.

This week has been a whirlwind of friends from Korea. It’s hard after you’ve lived in a place with such a tight knit community and a genuine looking out for one another atmosphere to replicate that. Of course, you never will.

This isn’t just my opinion, all the friends I have spoken to that lived in or close to Gyeongju say the same thing: the friendships built in South Korea turn into bonds you never find elsewhere. This doesn’t mean to say we are putting down the incredible friendships we have from school, university, through work and even from Brownies they’re equally as beautiful, just in a different way. I’m not pretending to be a philosopher of sorts but I do feel exceptionally blessed to have friends from every part of my life supporting and loving me even if it has been a year or two since seeing them.

Anyway, I’m going to stop rambling and proffer this piece of poetry. It is very sentimental and full of rhymes (not my usual bag) but it’s what came out when I put pen to paper. I know it’s cheesy but hopefully it will make you think of the friends you hold dear:

To see your face again

clasping finger tips of loves and lives lived

fiercely staring back at one another as photos are clicked.

Ah, my friends,
who love me unconditionally -
how I’ve longed for your faces to be soaked up by mine eyes

how I’ve longed for our bricks to be stacked and cemented so closely again.

And here you sit;
with hugs and smiles
tears and woes
knitted closer and tighter still.

To know what it is to be so close again allows a melancholy to tumble and turn in.

Wandering under your wings of love whilst those neon lights shine from above, I know that every step we take, together and apart, you’re the ones who helped free the poetry in my heart.

© LE Purse

16th & 17th August 2014




Head Cold Haikus


It has been a very long time since I attempted to write a Haiku, but here are three that came to me in that wakeful time before sleep and dreams care to descend whilst struggling to shake off my summer cold.

Go easy on their rough nature:


The sunshine spirals

roly polys and chammo

tea to drink, for me.



A watercoloured

harbour and rainbow shaped clouds

settle on my crown. 



Thump thump thump thump thump

Glug water, swallow the pills

Soothe iced tiger on. 


© LE Purse

21st July 2014

Silence, please

This is a poem I penned a while back and feels appropriate to share now amidst the radio silence on Gaza.

A bottle of words
corked up,
stopper firmly in place
fighting against
each letter, each syllable
from escaping
for fear of their actions.

The sun
through the green
in a spiral
reaching all corners of the room.

© LE Purse


Childhood Make Believe

ImageI sometimes miss the power of belief that comes only so naturally to children. Not only the belief in the magical world, but also the belief in the world we live in and in ourselves. I lacked a serious amount of self belief today in a situation that may well have cost me a position that could change my life.

This lack of self belief made me yearn for those days when nothing was impossible and reflect upon how the world of magic and belief is often reserved, in the adult world, for artists alone; how fortunate then that I count myself as being one. 

Hope you enjoy this alternative bit tid bit:

Make Believe

Fairy wings stick to my cheek and the sandman’s shiny gold dust

is smeared across my head for all to see

whilst a tiny rotting baby tooth is still tucked under my pillow.

Rudolph’s carrot is sliced and diced whilst Santa’s minced pies star in their own ecosystem of days gone by. 

8 fingers crossed 

1 magpie saluted;

no butter nor crush for you with all those petals depleted. 

© LE Purse

18th June 2014




Yesterday, My Leaves Fell

Firey leaves in South Korea.

Firey leaves in South Korea.

This new offering was inspired by the prompt over at Poetry Jaam of Lost and Found. Remember to check out the others’ inspired prose:

Yesterday, My Leaves Fell

Yesterday, my leaves fell;

Around my boughs lay the leaves I nurtured from buds.

Their raw green scraped-under-nail shoots pained me in the Spring.

A thousand tiny pin pricks surfaced,

every day a new raw pain as each emerging embryo formed;

Scars left behind to determine age.


Yesterday, my leaves fell;

My branches stand naked among the icy winds.

Rain drops dance along the delicate stumps where flowers once flourished

and petals twisted out from the cocoons that concealed their delicate beauty.


Yesterday, my leaves fell;

one by one they weaned themselves from my breast.

Their stalks becoming loose as they prepared for their descent,

no sense of what their flight might entail.


Yesterday, my leaves fell;

Around my boughs lay a carpet of colour.

The flood carried each one away like the ark

each one washed away full of every word spoken, every hand held, and every smile shared.


Yesterday, my leaves fell.


© LE Purse

16th June 2014



Recorded Sweet Somethings

tape recorder

This was inspired by Magpie Tales post and photo (above).

Something short but hopefully sweet:

Recorded Sweet Somethings





Round and round we go.


The silky tape wraps it’s tendrils around the wheel,

Moving in unison their rhythms collide.

Soft translucent touches send shivers across the dials,

as the tape awaits the melodic notes

to be dripped onto her like honey from up high.


© LE Purse

10th June 2014

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