Poetry Showcase | Charlotte Dawn Poetry

"It is not length of life, but depth of life." – Ralph Waldo Emerson

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Lines

It begins with a line.

Faint, then bold —

two stripes on a plastic window,

a whisper of becoming.

From there,

our lives are ruled by lines:

crayon-scribbled suns on paper,

the chalk that divides teams on playgrounds,

the red lines teachers draw through our mistakes.

We’re told to stay in line,

to colour inside them,

to sign on the dotted one,

to wait for our turn.

Lines cross and blur

in love and loss —

phone lines connecting hearts,

lifelines drawn by palms and fate.

We chase the finishing line,

measuring worth in how fast,

how far,

how cleanly we run.

But not all lines are straight.

Some twist, tangle,

sketch spirals of joy and sorrow,

heartbeat peaks on a hospital screen.

Until one day —

the hum fades,

and the final line

rests flat and still.

Yet even then,

somewhere,

another line begins to form —

faint, then bold —

a whisper of becoming.

Wild Woman

Wild woman, do not shame her, do not try to tame her.

She is not yours to claim.

Let her speak her truth, honour her words,

her wisdom, her fierce, unyielding heart.

Her voice carries power,

whispered in the wind,

echoed in the turning of the seasons,

felt in the ebb and flow of her emotions.

She belongs beneath the stars,

rooted in the richness of the earth,

dancing under the moonlit sky,

and in the quiet promise of a new day.

The sun rises, the compass points,

always a direction,

but never attempt to reroute her course.

Let her be—

untethered, unbroken, unstoppable.

She is the wild river that carves valleys through stone,

the fire that warms yet burns,

the wind that reshapes the mountains.

Her spirit is vast,

and her freedom is her gift.

Walk beside her if you must,

but do not cage her.

Learn from her rhythms,

follow the traces of her laughter,

and honour the space she claims for herself.

She is the dawn, the storm, the quiet after rain—

and she is always,

unapologetically,

herself.

Full Circle

My boys

Only yesterday,

they placed you in my arms—two years apart

Tracy and Amy, two kind strangers,

yet in those few shared hours

it felt like friendship spanning decades.

I’ll never forget the weight of you,

warm skin to skin,

the world holding its breath

as I held you first.

I fought your daddy for that moment—

we laughed, because I wouldn’t let go.

You were mine,

I carried you,

I birthed you.

But he held you too,

and I relented,

my heart bursting,

splitting open with love.

We took you home,

placed you at the centre of the room,

and I remember thinking—

what now? what do I do?

Time, the quiet teacher, answered.

We found our rhythm,

our groove that fit just right.

You grew,

and so did I—

my heart, my knowing, my everything

stretched to hold you both.

Now the years have whirled away,

Lego bricks, Pokémon cards,

Gruffalo hunts in the woods—

all traded

for your room, your friends, your phone.

I won’t lie—

I miss you.

I miss the closeness,

being the sun

at the centre of your little worlds.

But I’ve learned to stand softly at the edge,

trusting that all things

come full circle.

Until then, my loves,

just know—

I’m here.

Always.

The Life Cycle of an Over Woman

Don’t be overweight —

and suddenly, you’re overweening.

Keeping up?

Overwhelming.

As a girl,

you’re overexcited.

Too loud.

Too wild.

Too much.

Tone it down.

Sit still.

Smile small.

Don’t spill over.

Then you grow —

and you’re overworked,

underpaid,

overlooked.

Smile, but don’t overdo it.

Speak up, but don’t overstep.

You’re ambitious?

Overreaching.

You’re confident?

Overbearing.

You’re tired?

Overreacting.

Try harder, overachieve;

and still they say,

you’re overcompensating.

Care too much —

overemotional.

Care too little —

over it.

They call it “balance.”

You call it survival.

And one day,

you’re over the hill.

Overlooked again —

but this time,

invisible.

And after a lifetime of overdoing,

you realise —

it was never you

who was over.

It was them.

Under.

Underwhelming.

Underprepared.

Under everything

you’ve always been told

to rise above.

"The older I get, the further I go, the more I learn, the less I know" — BJ Neblett

"Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better." - Maya Angelou

"If there is no struggle, there is no progress." - Frederick Douglass