Let Your Wrinkles Twinkle

Like the wearing down of pages of a much-loved dogeared book our faces tell the stories of our lives.

For love may come or love may go and joy or pain abound, but each furrow speaks the tale that we survived.

Soft creases in a silk scarf over time, becoming deeper, every smile and every worry leaves it’s line.

Every moment we have lived and each adventure we embarked on placed their stories on our face, so let them shine.

Know that aging is a privilege that not everyone is given, so rejoice and wear your grey hair like a crown.

Then every wrinkle on your face becomes a radiant badge of honour for each time you got back up when you were down.

There is beauty in each blemish, there is magic in each mark and such wisdom you have learned along your way.

So let each wrinkle twinkle, smile and let each crease be loved because you’ve earned it with each passing of the day.

Claire Lucia-Wright




Ready to wake from this long sleep of winter,
The sun melts the shards that cut, stab and splinter.
Awoken by spring, my soul starts to thaw,
Recalling the person behind the closed door.
Beneath all the fear,
Beneath all the dread,
Here I am waiting, not yet dead.
I can be brave and step outside,
Declare to the world “I haven’t died”.
I am still here. I am still me.
There’s so much beauty left to see.

Claire Lucia-Wright


Fast Food, A Cautionary Tale


“Fast food will be the death of you”
Proclaimed the salad eater.
She put another cardie on,
And huddled by the heater.

“Just think of the cholesterol,
The fat, and all that salt.
You’re sure to have a heart attack,
And it’ll be your fault”.

“The burgers and the curry,
And the Chinese takeaway,
They might taste nice, but wait and see,
You’ll pay the price one day”.

The salad eater smugly sat,
And munched another leaf.
She stared right at my burger,
With a sense of disbelief.

“Fast food will be the death of you!”
The salad eater said,
While she shovelled down some lentils,
And sighed and shook her head.

And that was when it happened,
Something no one could predict.
So shocking, it would make
A healthy eater feel quite sick.

“Just look at me, so healthy,
I’ll out live you all” she bragged.
Then she breathed a little lentil in,
And wretched and choked and gagged.

She turned a funny colour,
And I did all that I could.
But any effort made to save her,
Didn’t do a scrap of good.

The moral of this story,
(Just in case you couldn’t tell)
Is that, yes, junk food could kill you,
But a salad could as well.

And a life of healthy eating,
Could be seen as slightly mental,
If you end up dead aged 30,
Being murdered by a lentil.

Claire Lucia-Wright