An Ode to Yesterday

Written by Scarlet Hardy

A two-part journey into the poet’s world. The second part will be published on July 25th.


I often think about yesterday,
When I miss young friends with whom I used to play.
The innocence of youth has long since gone,
Of opportunities to turn back time, I have had not one.
This poem is an ode to my youth that I have long since lost,
Exactly how much does the process of growing up cost?
This story is a truly long and twisted tale,
It is fresh and inviting, without being boring or stale.

I was born in a distant northern English city,
I was never rich and that is such a terrible pity.
I was the youngest of three little girls,
I had a few cute kiss curls.
I was born with the capacity for thought and wonder,
Through the first stages of growing up I did blunder.
I was quite a happy child of no great talent or ability,
I longed to have some true financial stability.

Due to my endless curiosity I asked questions all day long,
And when I felt happy I would burst into song.
Of the tiny cobbled street from where I once came,
One day that place would achieve its fair share of fame.
My memories stretch back to the tender age of just three,
I still remember being nursed upon my mother’s knee.
I knew nothing of dire poverty, I did not quite understand,
My untimely birth had not been planned.

I thanked awesome gods for my unexpected creation,
At that time I had no known position or power within any nation
Many mistakes I made; they fill me with such deep regret,
No way was I ever likely to become a teacher’s pet.
With limited finance and rather plain looks,
My life has proved to be a strange blend of change and flux.
Trapped inside my own world as a lonesome child,
While reading precious fairytales I felt quite beguiled.

Imagination was the only true gift that I ever possessed,
Where my thoughts would lead me I could not have guessed.
Personal desires and wants seem to come last,
Relief from financial desperation does not always arrive fast.
All the days of my life I have seriously struggled,
With truly horrendous bills I jiggled and juggled.

This book contains the details of my life and times,
And explain why I might be accused of committing treasonous crimes.
I am a humble servant of awesome gods,
However, they may prove to be highly contrary bods.
If only I knew where I first went wrong,
Maybe roads that I chose to travel might not seem so terribly long.
Read my tale and digest the meaningful words,
I have omitted all curses and four-letter verbs.
In my strangely wondrous books, I choose to fondly remember and reminisce,
This tale is about my youth that I still do miss.

Decades passed before I undertook the business of writing,
My life and times have proved to be ever so exciting.
Errors I made go on seemingly forever,
I will not stop trying to learn new things all together.
If it is money that makes this big old world go around,
I would be happy to own the odd bar of gold weighing a pound.
My newfound wealth I shall gladly share,
If I were rich, I would not have a single care.

This book speaks volumes about my great love of life,
I attempt to explain my ambition to overcome trouble and strife.
I grew up and I made more than just the odd mistake,
I was unlucky to meet the world’s biggest rake.
A spectator of my highly exciting life and times you could easily be,
Yet I am unable to give away precious books for free.
I hope that my poems inspire you in a variety of ways,
I would very much like to entertain people for the rest of my days.

It may be possible to encourage another to reach their full potential,
I would like others to expand their own imaginative deferential.
Should you reach for beautiful distant stars residing above,
It may be then possible to share respect and true love.
Nothing in life is more important than giving affection deep and true,
The powers above are watching me; they are also watching you.
I sincerely hope that you enjoy my enduring tale,
Straight through my never-ending fantasy you shall ever so gently sail.

Twisted tales come from deep within my peculiar imagination,
Writing often proves to be a highly pleasurable form of recreation.
I sometimes wonder where all of my treasured memories will go,
How this intrepid tale will end I still do not know.
These books are the result of an intensive labour of true love,
One day I hope to please awesome gods above.
I also would like to please the occasional passing stranger,
Reading rhyming novels is unlikely to put anyone in danger.


An Ode to Yesterday is the first of its kind here on Inkblots. A beautiful and lengthy narrative poem, we’ve split Scarlet’s work into two posts. Heavy in nostalgia, her work reaches afar with emotion and spirit. The tight rhythm and rhyme scheme used within shows Scarlet’s unwavering dedication to form. For new contributor Scarlet, her inspiration came from falling in love. So much so, her written work now spans across nine novels and a collection of short poems. An Ode to Yesterday is just a snippet of the labour of her love. If you enjoyed Scarlet’s poetry, feel free to leave a like or a comment below. 

Featured Image CC // Cross Duck

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