Christmas At Mistletoe Cottage – December 24

On December 24th (Christmas Eve), my short story ‘Christmas At Mistletoe Cottage’ will be available to buy from Amazon as an ebook for Kindle.

“A heartbreaking short-story of a woman, a mother, a friend, a daughter, a werewolf, Olivia Hunter, as she faces spending Christmas alone, in her home of Mistletoe Cottage, and as she reflects upon feelings of loss, sadness, loneliness, and regret that plague her, and so many others, over the festive period.”

And accompanying my short story, there will also be a Subscriber Exclusive audio version available on Spotify via my podcast “The Mark Hastings Podcast”; and there will also be a special Spotify playlist, called “Olivia Hunter’s Christmas Playlist”, that you can listen to which ties into the short story.

You can preorder ‘Christmas At Mistletoe Cottage’ now from Amazon: https://amzn.eu/d/e1D4dun

My Poem “Lily of the Valley”

I was once addicted to a Lily of the valley -
and from the moment that I first saw them
I felt something overwhelming
start to grow within me...
from the moment that we met,
I loved them more than I had
ever loved anything or anyone before -
because, as soon as I saw them,
they ignited a fire inside me that raged like a storm.

I gave them all my time and all my attention -
I walked away from everything and everyone else,
because I believed that we were
meant to be together,
because we had such a strong
and undeniable connection with one another.

From the moment I gave them my number,
our constant back and forth began -
and before I knew it, we were calling, meeting,
kissing, hugging, walking in the park,
as well as going to Starbucks and hanging out.

I gave them my heart, and I thought that I had theirs -
we played games, we laughed, we joked, we cried,
and we told each other we loved one another;
however, now I realise what my friends
were trying to tell me,
but which I could not see with my own eyes:
that I was being used by someone
who did not really care
and that almost everything from
their mouth was nothing but a lie.

They made me feel amazing -
but there were times when they made me feel sad...
I was so happy when I was with them -
but now that I see their manipulation of me,
I must admit that I do feel mad.

I believed that we had something
that would last forever,
because what I felt for them was so powerful
and because I felt like I had
been waiting for them my entire life -
but now, when I remember them and what we did,
the memory of the time we shared
cuts right through me like a knife.

I was stupid, I was in love...
I honestly thought that they were
a blessing and a miracle from heaven above...
I was wrong, and I wish that I could
turn back the clock
and make believe that everything that happened
all happened inside of a dream...
I wish that I could get back all the time
that was robbed from me
and from those who wanted
to spend more time with me.

Who knows what might have happened, 
who knows how different my life now would be,
had I not been tempted by
the poisonous Lily of the valley.

A Poem A Day #401: Writing the blues

“Writing the blues” by Mark Hastings was taken from Mark’s poetry collection ‘The Dreamer and The Dream’ which was published in 2015 by Zeloo Media. Check out more of Mark’s poetry online @ http://MarkThePoet.Me – all poems © Mark Hastings ● Buy Me a coffee @ https://www.buymeacoffee.com/MarkThePoet ● Check out the merch store on Redbubble: https://rdbl.co/3xWa4Rw

My Poem “Sombre”

Life definitely feels different now...
the strings of life are definitely playing
more sombrely and vibrating on a more downbeat frequency...
life definitely feels like there has been
a conglomeration of uncertain clouds...
there is no music to be heard -
however people are talking about
what is on everybody's mind,
because there is a mutual feeling
of loss at the passing of the people's queen.

The people of the United Kingdom and the world
all appear to be in a state of shock
and remorse...
we all knew what happened
would happen one day,
but we were not ready for it -
but how could anybody prepare themselves
for a loss that feels so great,
it is as if the direction of the country
and it's people are aboard a boat
thay is now sailing off course.

People are walking around
somewhat in a daze...
people are not saying much,
but it is obvious how they are feeling
from the expressions on their face...
people are keeping calm and carrying on -
just as they have always been told they have to
after losing someone who meant
something to them since they were young;
but right now I think everybody
feels as if they have lost someone
who felt more like a family member
than a sovereign...
people come, people go -
but when you grow up with someone,
and you one day lose that person,
you naturally feel sad,
and the atmosphere that surrounds you
and everyone connected to you
who knew them also
is always sombre.

My Poem ‘9/11’

The die was cast far and wide,
the pain was felt deeply and irrevocably
on that sunny Tuesday morning,
on the Eleventh of September, 2001;
terrorists to all mankind
came out of the shadows
from where they had been hiding
and made an attack
and left a lasting scar
on all of humanity,
that to this day still pains me
even now, 14 years on.

How could anyone do such a thing?
Why? Oh my god, why?
Who would think to do such a thing?
The innocent do not deserve to die!

I mourn the lost;
I am mindful of the loved ones
and the family members
who were left behind
and who still struggle
to live and to move on,
as if nothing happened;
I still believe that the entire world
is still understandably shell-shocked;
I have been to Ground Zero,
I have stood in the place
where the shadows of
the World Trade Center still remain,
and I can honestly say that being there
where so many people lost their lives
had a profound effect on me:
the new Freedom Tower
and the pools of remembrance
that are now in place of what was once there,
in memory of the indescribable tragedy
and the massacre that took place,
will always be to me
sacred and holy ground.

I have flashed back to that day
every year since 2001;
I have imagined myself where I was,
sitting in front of my TV,
watching the news reports
of the true American horror story unfold;
I have wished many times
that what happened on that day
could somehow have been prevented
by some miracle of heaven;
I have watched the echoes
and the repercussions of what happened
on that day spread and effect
everyone and every country around the world.

I am a man of many words,
but even I struggle to put into words
the sadness that I still feel
about all the people who died
in New York City,
at the Pentagon in Washington, D.C.,
in Virginia, in Pennsylvania,
and everybody who has lost their life since;
I am a man who believes
that things happen for a reason,
but I cannot, nor could I ever,
nor could anyone for that matter,
give me an acceptable justification
that would make my confusion
about the murders that were carried out
on that day in any way lessen;
no deplorable and horrific act of terrorism
like that which played out
in front of everybody
on the 11th of September, 2001,
to me could ever make sense;
I will never forget;
I will never allow the fallen to be forgotten;
I will always hold on to the memory
of my unforgettable brothers and sisters,
as I hold up my hand
and feel my heart beating in my chest;
I will always remember
the day that will always be known as 9/11.

9-11-poem