Saturday, 17 April 2021



There is a country cottage,
surrounded by tall pine trees,

that has a small front room
where I came into this world

with a strangled cry -
my first lungful of air. It was

painful, they said, that birth
so reluctantly endured

by as unmaternal a mother
as they come. But

my small white face,
so wrinkly and dimpled,

forged an instant bond
with a doting father

who'd been longing so for a daughter.
What I remember most

is the blinding light
from the window, so white

and prophetic of a lifetime
to come desperately seeking

the light in everything,
the Spirit within:

Mum, Dad and the midwife initially,
but without means to explain it -

well, not in words anyway. Outside
summer lasted for millennia, with clusters

of laburnum blooms. I vividly recall
the heady fragrance and it's sun yellow

mesmerising hue - and the fact
that it was too high to touch

led to ferocious tantrums and
my refusal to be photographed beneath it.


I fell in love yesterday,
and was astounded by the transformation.

I appeared radiant, a light
in my eyes gazed back 

from my image
in the bedroom mirror

and a secret smile
danced about my lips.


He and I touched hearts, and
through the metaphor - a connected

feeling deep inside - 
I fell pregnant with the sun:

all this light I give to you!
In the silence beyond words

I held his presence -

unknown to him, unknowable
in fact, because

there were just too many light years
stretching the infinity between us.

Sunday, 11 April 2021


A poem for today...


The rain's been worse than ever this winter,
the river spewing out onto the floodplain
and into too many front doors. It feels uneasy,
like living with an unexploded time bomb,

too precarious. The canal's banks
are lined with barges, whose owners 
are somewhere else. Even the tow path,
usually packed with joggers, cyclists

and dog walkers, lies silent and deserted.
It's quite eerie here in the drizzly mist. There is
a sense of dereliction. And I wish, like
the summer kayakers, to be elsewhere too.


An excess of knocks has left me paranoid -
although some men, it seems,
are drawn to that quirkiness in me,

at least for the short term. Loss
precipitates a descent into desperation - that state
which leads only to the next blunder

involving over-dependency. Emotional intelligence
gives way to fanatically searching 
in the most inappropriate places

for a kind of idyllic love
that could never exist in reality -
until that burning need

inside me drives yet another
substitute away. Mere resemblance
will never be enough. I see that now.


I cherish memories of that last summer beside the canal.
Cool shade, beneath trees reflected
in the still water below: another, reversed world.
It seemed our happiness would never end. 
Such joy to be canoing there with you.

We existed in pure bliss. All day the sun
beat down and butterflies fluttered
around us. Rowing requires effort in the heat,
you have to be prepared to sweat.
Now, the canal is too poignant. A memorial to us.


In the dead of night, his arms
never soothe the hurt. The moon

enchants, but only the sun
sustains life. Now, the mornings

are a vanished lover. Cold emptiness,
a Dear Jane note on a pillow. Tears

are a dripping tap. I crave
some permanence, but I know

nothing except the pain: the flood
and it's brutal destruction.


I'll think of you when summer returns
and the floods have dried up. I'll be
canoeing on the canal again, only
this time alone. Stopping off

as we always used to, at the pub,
I'll sip white wine and listen
to your favourite song. It'll hurt,
God knows, it will. When you died,

I tried to replace you, to fill again
the void you left. You were, are, my sunlight;
my self-esteem. Without you
I am less than nothing...

But they're all telling me
that I have to go on living, that I
am worth something in my own right.
Oh I know they mean well, but

how can I possibly move on
with such a gaping, weeping hole
where my heart used to be?

Saturday, 27 March 2021


Just wanted to convey my most heartfelt thanks for all your kind comments. They are so very much appreciated!😊😊
I am currently dealing with multiple health issues, so am to and from hospital quite a bit.
I hope to visit you all again as soon as I can, as I'm missing you all so much.🙁
Well, have a fabulous weekend everyone...and stay safe and happy xxx

Friday, 29 January 2021


It began with a copy of Wuthering Heights.
Echoes of intrigue lept out of the pages.
I felt them weave themselves into my being.
Another's creation. But where is she now?

Death cannot erase greatness. It is
her immortality, her irresistibility. Why
not before? Had I lived then, could I
have known her, perhaps better understood?

Imagination. So she first entranced me with those miniscule
booklets: Gondal resurrected in my psyche.
Now, when I move, her pen moves with me.
Just out of sight, she directs my life, ever watchful.

And if, as she claims, Heathcliff truly loves Cathy,
then what kind of love is so obsessive
that it rips both Souls to shreds
and condemns them to eternal unrest?

Or is it my unrest - her words merely evoking
my deepest, most tormented desires?
If, as I suspect, I am Cathy; then I must find him -
he is the prize within the maze of words.

But, why should I read, when living it is more persuasive?
Or long to touch, when feeling without touching
is so unexpected, so exquisite and so rare?
Today, his proximity. Ecstasy is in the air.

Saturday, 23 January 2021


Call me boring, but I'm never predictable
when I sit down to write. What is it 
about that particular activity
that triggers such dramatic transformation?

Weekdays, admittedly, I'm conformity's slave,
with kohl-lined eyes and high heeled shoes -
ostensibly fitting in with society's expectations. You know,

it's taken me twenty years to perfect
this duel identity - the near seamless balance
between civil servant and poetic visionary.
No one has ever known me, not really.
As soon as they think they do, I confound them.

I cannot fully live up to another's ideals,
so I vanish into thin air; feeling my way,
intuitively led, into the Lands Adventurous;
deeper and deeper until my head spins
with a million and one impressions
that condense themselves into my pen.

And I just scribble, scribble; letting them flow
unedited, cascading like a waterfall
of emotions issuing from the memory banks
of the Cosmos itself. Perhaps
I'm a part of that macrocosm - or, maybe,
simply it's messenger. Either way,
I am mere flesh and blood - but inside
something colossal is stirring:
an irresistible call to the Quest
for universal empathic connection.

So sorry everyone, but I'm running late this week...will catch up with you all tomorrow hopefully! Have a super day xxx

Friday, 15 January 2021


My apologies, guys - but I simply HAD to vent my fury after seeing this on the TV news...

You conned her out of her savings -
a lifetime of toil erased.
You stole her independence
without a care for the effect
on her sense of dignity.
All you've left her with is fear - of people,
of even leaving her home. A frail
elderly lady of ninety-two.
Oh yes, such easy prey
for you, wasn't she - to
pose as a doctor and inject
into her arm God knows what,
professing it to be a Covid vaccination
and then charge her a fortune for the privilege.
And, furthermore, to have the audacity
to return again and demand extra payment!
Oh you're so cocky, aren't you,
so fiendishly clever...

Ah, but you were caught on camera.
Yes, you - you heartless, worthless scum!
Think your sweatshirt hood pulled up
will protect your cowardly identity?
No chance!
Just think on this...

There is a Universal Judiciary System,
way above the scope of mere CCTV
and earthly Judges and courthouses,
which observes all, is all-knowing -
and it is closing in around you.
Better be afraid, moron, because
there's no escaping the consequences
of your inhuman criminal activities.
They'll rebound on you
as precisely as an echo, only

And just one more thing, creep,
before I conclude.
A quick check to ask
how you're sleeping at night?
Have you noticed and changes yet
in your dreamlife? No?
Well you will. Believe this, 
you will!

Soon it will begin: the demons
rising up out of the bowels
of your nightmares' darkest recesses.
And they won't ever go away.
They'll pursue you day and night,
will eventually drive you insane.
What, then, of your ill-gotten gains?
What use will they be
when you're locked away
in your lonely, claustrophobic,
padded cell?