my hands
I use them
they tell
the story
of my life…
J. Belle

Explore the work of Jacqueline Belle: poet, author and multimedia creator.
my hands
I use them
they tell
the story
of my life…
J. Belle

I lay flat in the cold…
a road made of ice.
Looking up into the darkness
as luminescent colours
dance above me.
Reaching up my arms,
tracing the colours
with my fingertips.
Painting the sky
and my mind with magic.
J. Belle


well, hello there
little flower.
where did you
come from?
and how on earth
did you grow here?
J. Belle

Make the best of it
whatever life brings you.
J. Belle

Sometimes
even the bravest
most beautiful hearts
lose their courage
then behave in
strange
unexpected ways
to conceal it.
J. Belle

The wind
was fierce
it blew
with such force
I could barely stand.
I lay down
in the grasses
while it howled
and thrashed
against me.
I called out
to the clouds
until my voice
ran hoarse
my mouth dry.
Invigorated
rejuvenated
and ready
for the long trek
home.
J. Belle

Birds chirp
wings beating
in the air
a chorus
of frogs below
squirrels chitter
wind rustling
through
last years leaves
reaching out
warm sun
cool breeze
firm yet sways
smooth papery
to touch
yet rough
against
my forehead
pause…
a moment.
J. Belle

You can not
control who
your heart
loves…
and sometimes
your heart
will just
be broken
always
and forever.
J. Belle 🤍

Pieces
are missing
but a full heart
all the same.
J. Belle

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