The ancient oak tree

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the heart just stopped
the ancient oak tree told me to listen
but what’s with his call?

Hear nothing but rustling sound of the leaves
scared, confused, what is wrong with me?
‘don’t be afraid’, said the ancient oak tree
‘you’ve scared your dreams,
your courage and it’s not easy to redeem’

Close your eyes and listen
wind, nature are like musicians
writing songs and stories and so can yours
Don’t forget the ancient oak tree
believe, listen and be what you want to be
and again with your heart

The Fire and The Flame

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The expanse of the desert
Is hottest at noon
But i prefer
The cooler times
At dusk, at dawn, the dunes
Turn blue
A humming azure hue.
The softening of the heat and light,
The warmth awash with tempered might,
The dulling of the minds taut burn,
Today we have achieved the sane,
Walked through the fire
Through the flame.

Fare Well

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Why must we end our voyage together—
Our brief encounter on life’s great sea?
And though I know we cannot sail forever,
I cannot yet sail and one trav’ller be.

But from this take strength, oh forlorn friend,
For before us both long journeys lie:
We shall meet at, or beyond the end,
Though stars may sink and sea may dry.

And in going, remember, you owe it to me,
And I to you – that if on life’s main,
A shipwrecked brother we were to see,
We lend them heart and strength again.

Flowers, for me?

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I bought flowers for myself today.
Red tulips, they were on sale.
Flowers for the sad girl with the sad eyes,
that stare out at me from the mirror

I catch her following me, in the reflection of car windows.
She mimics everything I do,
but she couldn’t be more different.
I silence her at night, when she whispers in my ear
This isn’t you, this isn’t us.

And I tell her she has no idea who I am anymore.
No one does.
I tell her it’s a good thing,
the world is too harsh for people like us

Ones who feel too much,
Ones who don’t feel enough.

There is no space for her,
No time for her sadness,
the world is too harsh for people like us

So I bought flowers for myself today.
Yellow sunflowers, like the ones Id grow with my dad.
Flowers for the sad girl with the sad eyes,
and I choose to be happy today,
I choose to smile at the girl that’s always watching me,
and since she mimics everything I do
She smiles back.

And today, I am okay.

Obviously Orange

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“George, George where have you been?”
This is how it always starts.
Rushed footsteps, bubbling giggles and then the outburst of “I’ve missed you!”
After that no one can get a word in edgeways,
For us the whole family dinner is a daze.
Reciprocal radiation, “you know you’re my favourite” I said
Because you’re so obviously orange and I’m so obviously red.

Wild Walking

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Stride over peat and puddle-shine,
While a curlew calls through cotton-grass;
Wade the nettles at the woodland edge,
While a buzzard mews above the copse.

Coffee tastes better
When it cools rapidly in an icy wind
Which blew the grains off the spoon,
Raindrops diluting it shamelessly;
Sitting on a gate or beneath a wall
To watch the deepening winter sunset,
Darkening clouds scudding across the sky
And the fairy-light houses below, in the valley.

Brush wild orchids on the soft downs,
While a lark sings high and full on the breeze;
Clink stone on stone in the mountain heights,
While wind-caught crows wheel silently below.

A sandwich tastes better
When it unfurls, slightly squashed, from the rucksack
Which sweated its way up into the heights.
The city is for lattes, where the shoppers ebb and flow;
Dining here in the lee of a rock,
Accessorized by mud and raindrops,
I feel better under the sky
When this is my elegant lunch.

I feel better when

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There’s a lot on my mind right now I just can’t think,
It seems that every night I find myself with a drink,
You see, there’s a lot going on at home right now and I just don’t know,
How to deal with it and where to go.

I’m looking on the internet trying to see if its ordinary,
But there’s nobody like me and it makes me quite cautionary,
I’m alone in this game with no other players,
Don’t know where to begin there’s just so many layers.

I don’t know who can help me, I need to find,
Somebody who can demolish this wall I hide behind,
It seems as though for me there is no escape,
But there are things I find which keep my sanity in shape.

You see, I feel better when my problem is shared,
My mind is more free and I’m less impaired,
And I feel better when I take time to reflect,
On the problems I have and the solutions to perfect.

I feel better when you ask me to sing along,
as opposed to questioning me, asking what’s wrong,
Because I feel better forgetting the reasons I cry,
Beginning to explain something that I could never even try.

I feel better knowing that I am surrounded by support,
Especially when it’s not something I’ve actively sought,
It’s because I feel better knowing there are people who care,
Who recognise me as an individual and don’t compare.

I feel better knowing that there are others in my position,
There’s more being done to appreciate my condition,
And I feel better when there are more people who understand,
That I didn’t choose to be like this it was out of my hands.

I feel better to witness the change in people’s attitude,
And for that I give them my utmost gratitude,
They’ve made me love myself to every letter,
So they are the reason why I feel better.


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You’re my glass balloon.

I’ll hold on tight
And see right through.

You hold me up
When I’m weighed down.
In the sky,
Above the ground.

We’ll fly together,
Over lakes clear blue.
A brighter world,
Our shatter-proof view.

Too much

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I try to heal myself
I share my pain with the World
Because it knows
Better than me
That I will feel better again

Flowers in bloom

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It comes in the dead of night
When the slate of day is wiped clear
It ticks, it tocks all through the night
And the voices are all I can hear

Each fresh day is spoiled in bloom
From the very stroke of the midnight hour
The air is dry, taken from the room
and from this depravity will come no flower

I often wonder how it feels
To live each day and start anew
Yet I exist in this reality, me,
a hollow ghost you look right through

I have walked this lonely road too long
that I know no other path to take
And I know my mind should say, “get better”
But I ask myself, when I lie awake:

Do I feel better when,
The bad thoughts circulate again?
Do I enjoy the misery,
That comes with the territory?

If I think that I deserve the pain
How can I stop it from preying again?
In the weakest of times
When these thoughts prey
It’s hard to see another way.

Believe one day, you’ll start anew
In life, you’ll see the value.
The flowers you thought had died will bloom.
Their presence will light up the room

And a petal may drop from time to time
But another isn’t far behind
And through the times of struggle and plight
Look toward the sun and shower in the light.

Blue With You

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What would I do without you?
My saviour in the night,
Whisking me away from my problems, whilst you drown in your own.
Gently I’ll coax you back, I’ll be your buoy.
If you’re sinking take me with you, we’ll fall into those murky depths together,
And when we arise hand in hand soaked in our own tears
We’ll feel better, despite being wetter, we’ll feel better.


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The lips show a slight smirk,
Face to face,
A message behind the eyes,
Hidden within the depths,
Strength. Power. Determination.
Nobody can move this woman,
She is unshakeable,
Silently powerful.
The lips show a slight smirk,
What’s inside?
Quiet determination.

The Power of Two

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Looking into the kaleidoscope of your mind
reminds me of the cracks in my hands.
My hands to you, your mind to me,
deep and uncared for, a stark similarity.
Place your head in my hands,
let us weep together.
Pain is a tonne of bricks,
never weathered by the weather.
Work with me, fingers to clay,
place our hurting hearts into this wall
and then let us walk away.
You do not need to walk into each room
with gloom packed into a suitcase.
Let me help you unpack your things,
so that they may not drag you.
Disseminate your wearied woes,
overthrow them with the power of two.
One labouring worker may take a while,
you’ll feel better with a soldier beside you.


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The switch

To fix

To stitch

To light


Inside and out

To light

The way

To say

We are kintsugi
– – – – – – – – — – – – – – – – – – – – –

From life’s war school

(Rightly said Friedrich)

What does not kill us

Makes us stronger.
– – – – – – – – — – – – – – – – – – – – –

The switch

To fix

Beyond our dreams

We are the healers

We are kintsugi

We see and feel

We are

The switch

Kintsugi (金継ぎ, “golden joinery”), also known as Kintsukuroi (金繕い, “golden repair”), is the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with lacquer dusted or mixed with powdered gold, silver, or platinum, a method similar to the maki-e technique. As a philosophy, it treats breakage and repair as part of the history of an object, rather than something to disguise…. As a philosophy, kintsugi can be seen to have similarities to the Japanese philosophy of wabi-sabi, an embracing of the flawed or imperfect.[10][11] Japanese aesthetics values marks of wear by the use of an object. This can be seen as a rationale for keeping an object around even after it has broken and as a justification of kintsugi itself, highlighting the cracks and repairs as simply an event in the life of an object rather than allowing its service to end at the time of its damage or breakage. Kintsugi can relate to the Japanese philosophy of “no mind” (無心 mushin), which encompasses the concepts of non-attachment, acceptance of change, and fate as aspects of human life. (Retrieved 27th Oct 2018 from Usage/permission/rights:

“What does not kill us makes us stronger.” (attributed to Friedrich Nietzsche, German philosopher, 1844-1900, based on his words: “Out of life’s school of war: What does not destroy me, makes me stronger.” from The Twilight of the Idols, 1899.)

Mind and Metal

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There are many people here
packed within this room.
I hear the chatter in black static,
a silent “how are you?”

The room is buzzing with the quiet,
no words come from lips.
Instead I hear the metronome
of glass against finger tips.

A conversation between mind and metal
where true connections dare not lie.
Oh! How rude I must be
to look a friend in the eye.

I feel better when I talk to you
without our pockets buzzing.
Tweets come only from the birds
and likes do not replace loving.

I feel better when you and I face body to soul.
Metal may break and screens may crack but our connection shall never grow old.

Lavender Bubbles

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I feel better when
I hear running water
Hitting the hard surface
Soften to a constant hum
Light crisp crackles of lavender bubbles
Forming then disappearing
An endless cycle of renewel
Until the water stops and it’s ready
Just for me
Dip in a toe
Light a candle
Sink in

Everything melts away
From mind and body
That built up during the day
I am rejuvenated
With quiet content and gratitude

From now to then

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The perfect peace of morning when
all is still and early light comes
shining though the sprouting skeleton trees
while tiny gulls fly high above
a hundred miles from any coast
drifting like litter on the dusty city breeze.

That building roar of traffic in the underpass
I close my eyes attempting to tune in
to sounds of breaking waves upon the shore
coat-clad commuters passing in the street below
en route to offices and shops, their daily grind
responsibility I’m all too happy to ignore

And later on I’ll take the dog and walk
a narrow track along the sheer cliff behind the house
with billowing waters down below.
I’ll balance on the dizzy height, drunk on ozone and delight
drowning in the vastness of the blue.
Warm sunshine on my pale cheeks
skin cleansed and buffed by salty wind
I’ll laugh in nature’s face and fall content into her arms
At length returning home
with muddy canine wagging through the wicket gate
I’ll trace the garden path between the pregnant beds
right up to white-washed walls
that wear their thatch like an old hat
Requisite rambling rose climbs round the door
and hollyhocks will soon be growing tall along the wall

One day, one day,
I’ll own a cottage far away

Meanwhile in the city that’s nearer to space than the sea
morning sunlight is
reflecting off the bellies of swooping pigeons
peeping round the corners of buildings
showing up gum marks and overflowing litter bins
casting shadows through the railings
lighting lamp posts and bare trees
pouring bright pools onto grainy grey concrete.

There is a time for everything

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Spring will come again
and all the buried hidden things frozen
in the hinterland twixt life and death
will feel her warm caress and
lift their heads

Spring will come again
forgetting winter’s cold restrictions
sloughing off the heavy coat as days lengthen
brightening brown to green and changing
grey to blue

Spring will come again
small flowers will appear on the earth
wearing diamonds dropped at dawn by
chasing clouds a promise of the coming
carnival of colour

Spring will come again
the seasons do not fail
even your sad weary world must turn
to face the strength and splendour
of the sun

Spring will come again
the waiting’s not in vain


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I feel better when I breathe.
When I am still and my heart moves free.
When I read and my eyes dwell deep.
And my mind wanders, through History.
Struck in awe at legacy,
Deep roots grow strong with good company,
With struggle, soil and dark territory.
And yet,
I am humbled in awe of how You Decree,
And the Blessings that You’ve sent on me
I feel better. With YOU I am free.
And smile 🙂

Water Water….

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I feel better when I sink into the pool of water,
I permit my body to sink and rise in the pool
Sink and rise and float and drift along with gentle strokes
I relax and stretch and gently glide the pool
my sanctury of the swimming pool, so refreshing and mind cleansing..

You Are Loved

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The sky bares down like your teeth
It rains and pours like your tears
Lighting cracks and it thunders,
“You are loved.” So loud and so true.

A puddle collects, and with each
Singular salted drop it grows.
To streams, to rivers, to oceans.
And each passing wave crashes the words,
“You are loved” louder and truer.

A hand, no gentler than a whisper
Into the ear of a lover, wipes the rain away.
Oceans dry up at the touch of fingers to lips,
And puddles disappear with lips to ears.
The words “you are loved” so quiet,
And yet still so true escape into the clear sky.

The clouds depart effortlessly with the words.
Now so clear you know them to be true.
You are loved. The sun shines.
You are loved.


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Treading through the vibrant, green enchanted forest. Foliage tinged with first signs of red and orange of autumn.
Sun shines through the canopy, rays of light acting as warm spotlights in between the cooler shade.
Melodies of the forest magnified. Songs of birds, rustling and crunching of leaves in the wind and on the ground. Eclectic mix of creatures communicating with unique sounds.
Listening intently, trees heard interacting in quiet, resonant tones. Whispers of the wood elves, if you’re lucky.
Pause. Eyes close.
Eyes open. Blinded by glaring sun and dazzling blue sky. Scorched by immense heat of the sun. Blown away by chaotic desert wind. Towering dunes.
Sauntering through sand, footsteps muffled by its softness. Wind, sand and heat guarded against with face covering.
City in horizon. Magnificent temples and resplendent palace, dwarfing all other structures.
Mystical aquamarine lake nourishes the city. A majestic oasis. Peaceful yet mesmerising.
Lost in watching the lake glow and shimmer.
Attention resurfaces.
Suspended within the eternal darkness of the cosmos. Way illuminated by celestial objects.
Floating through a nebula, viewing in the distance other gas clouds. Birth of stars creating intense works of art.
Brilliant solar systems and glittering galaxies, clustered like neighbourhoods and cities. Rush hour of comets zoom around at tremendous speed. Stars in the distance aflame, giving life to surrounding planets.
Breathing deeply, captivated by the majesty of the universe.
Eyes close.
Eyes remain closed. Gentle lapping of waves. Soft sand cushioning underneath. Breathing slowly and deeply, meditating beside the calm sea.
Feeling a comforting breeze, the air cooler at sunset.
Eyes slowly open. Blazing, magical sunset. Sea greets the horizon, turning orange and pink, reflecting the sun’s descent.
Utterly at peace. Eyes close.
Eyes open again. Page full of prose. Pen placed down, fingers and hand overworked. So many fantastical worlds visited. So many universes created within the mind. So many stories to share with others.
Ready to explore a magnificent part of the real world. Perhaps a luscious, green forest. Or a calm, peaceful sea. Ready to find inspiration.
Then ready to create again.

The Joy in Baking

Go to the kitchen, turn on the oven
open the cupboard, reach up and look for
Flour, Sugar, Vanilla and Ginger
Creaming butter by hand is my workout
adding sugar till it’s silky and smooth
heaps of flour like snow-covered mountains
mix it, squeeze it, squish it through my fingers
Slowly it changes to a perfect dough

Flouring the worktop, clouds of it rising
as I roll the dough again and again
Choosing cutters in 3 different sizes
12 little people, my gingerbread friends
gone in the oven. I watch them change colour
tourists on beach towels under the sun
Takes only 10 minutes and out they come
lying on the wire rack. One by one

I eat them.

Keep dancing

posted in: Poems 2016 | 0

Swirling dresses

Speedy spins

Dips and seducers

Music loud

Slow jive, fast jive

Smiling faces

Drinks a-plenty

Feel the beat

Men leading

Don’t be fooled

They’re in control?

Only for tonight!

Twirling bodies

Friends chatting

Everyone laughs

Great for the soul

Short skirts, dresses long

High heels, no heels

Loved up youngsters

Life long friends meet

Long time dancers

New beginnings

Dance is fun

Fun IS dance.

Inner self

posted in: Poems 2016 | 0

Where did it go the darkness within me

How did the light start to creep over me

Where did my cave go, who opened the door

My eyes opened wide,so much brightness surrounds me

How did you know where to find me

My smile is stiff,my eyes hurt a little

Strange feelings overwhelm me

How do i know this isn’t a dream

I know you are there,don’t pull me so hard

Let’s take our time, let’s get this right

I’m feeling better now I’ve caught up with my beautiful inner self.

I’m Beginning to Feel Better…

I stormed out
in a temper, yes.
Everything is expected of me
so, for once, I’ve left him to it.

He can wash up
He can feed the baby
He can get the children dressed.
For once.

I have it all to do,
even on Sundays when he’s home.
The day the good Lord said
‘ye shall rest.’

I have it all to do
the cooking, the cleaning
the washing, the ironing.

I have it all to do
get them up in the morning
put them to bed.
Feed their hungry mouths
tell them stories
listen when they read to me.

I do it all with no bother, usually.
Not today, a Sunday when we are due to go out
something snaps and
I leave my post – the kitchen sink
so out I go and walk and walk and walk.

As I walk my temper subsides.
I don’t care where I walk but
I find the river with swans swimming
rowers rowing, people strolling.
I make my way home, feeling calmer.
He’s done it all, the pots, the children.

Being a ‘Drama Queen’ sure gets results.


I got up in the morning and looked out at the view,
a fine summers morning filled with tranquillity and joy,
blue skies, white clouds, birds soaring, sun shining,
Birds chirping happily pecking at the berries, magpies squabbling and pigeons hovering, looking for food,
Cat positioning herself wiggling her back ready to strike, bird flies away, a very surprised the cat
Grandkids tearing down the stairs, pitter patter of their feet
ready to eat breakfast, cheeky grins on their face,
innocent eyes full of mischief look up at me with unconditional love, like flowers opening their petals and embracing me,
feeling of sheer joy and love oozes out of me, they speak the truth, so beautiful, I felt like a hero
out we go in the garden for breakfast in the sun, everything comes alive, garden echoes from laughter and glee, children shrieking, dog wagging its tail joining the fun, cat seems disgusted and looks away
Time to serve, “poached egg and toast for me” shouts one, “I want chocolate spread, toast, jam, doughnuts and biscuits and sweets, pipes another
I looked at them with pride, how lucky I am to be part of their life
My kitchen is in a mess, all that cleaning and scrubbing, I am sure it will go unnoticed by you know who, I do not care a toss I am going to have fun, maybe he will surprise me
A soft warm hand clutches into mine and whispers “ let’s go to the park for ice cream” a little voice commands
We stroll in the park and see green trees, some in bloom nodding their heads and flowers too
We felt so light we danced and skipped as there was no tomorrow, we skipped by the water danced round the trees, raced with the wind sunny breeze kissed our cheeks
I felt alive like the buds of flower opening up to the warmth of the sun.
We skip by the pond and see a frog and his mating call, sitting there waiting in patience, children said “hello” poking sticks and throwing stones as most children do, full of mischief.
Stopped by the splashing fountain, so soothing to the soul, hobbled lazily to a nearby bench
I lay my head down ready to doze, I close my eyes just for a moment and count my blessings,
saw a bee buzzing in my face, so small yet fearless.
Little one squeezes my hand, little chubby fingers clutching me, reaches over for crisps, the older one snatching it away, he put his arms around my neck and I hugged him tight.
My little angel Ill keep you safe, I held him so close and kissed him,
how blessed I was, the only people I need in my life are the one who need me.
Amazing how far one can go just because someone believes in you
I wanted to live the day with my stars
As we come to a close, the fun ended
head for the kitchen for unfinished work.


I look in the mirror
I see myself without a glimmer
I see my eyes filled with fear and pain
Is this me full of stain
I got all mad and angry
My strength and pride I wanted to regain
I hastened to the window and gazed
Out in the garden somewhat dazed
It looked so magical with sunshine and bloom
I walk in the garden to get rid of my gloom
The sweet cool breeze gave me so much hope
Calming feelings spreading like dope
Scent from the flowers so vibrant and soothing
Petal so tender yet so strong and ravishing
The bird in the tree sang me a song
You can do it if you really want, but you must try and try
I had nothing to lose but to comply
I walked to the duck swimming in the pond
She looked at me and sang me a song
Chicken, take a dive and shine
I sang the note of the bird song
Walked a different path no so long
I became an eagle with wings spread wide
Soaring away high in the sky, my head held high
Gone is the darkness that controlled my soul
Determined to reach my goal
I meet my friends with outstretched hands
Bruises and scars are on the mend
Now as my story unfolds
I am proud to say
Hello, this me the bold
That is me the real me

I shall write a radio play

I shall write a radio play

I shall write a radio play,
because I wanted to write one years ago
because I love listening to radio dramas
because I borrowed a radio script once
and lost it , I feel bad about that
because I’d promised to return it
because I used to love amateur dramatics,
because I like writing dialogue
because I want to write something
different to poetry
because I can feel the button of the radio
as I press it to hear my play
and I feel better


I reach up and press the button
I push the door open
I pass the office window
and go through the outer door
as I walk over the path
and on to the car park
I know I will never
go through that door again.
Twenty years of memories,
mostly joyous, but, no regrets
I’m sure and I feel better.

Sarah Jane

We’d had ‘words’, she invalided
severely crippled with arthritis
hardly able to move alone

me, only daughter coping
best I could; part time jobs,
student husband, new town

grabbed baby, plopped her
into weary old Silver Cross.

My outburst startled each of us;
exiting without a backward glance
I heaved the front door shut behind.

Fresh air, a stroll around parkland
birdsong, happy dogs and walkers
diffuse the situation. We go home.

It’s a mixture of anger and shame.

Thank God happy baby beams
at Grandma in her comfy chair.

Focused on her Mills and Boon
she says softly “Kettle’s boiled”.

Words dissolve like sugar in tea as we drink silently together.

Forty years on in my mind’s eye there’s
a stalwart defying excruciating pain
carrying out a simple task.

You struggled from chair to wheelchair
You stubbornly reached the kitchen sink
Your determination picked up the kettle
Your tenacity held on while it filled
Your generosity tricked us – nearly.

Lament of the Struggling Artist, or, not all impossible tasks are that onerous

I just feel better when I know I’ve failed
and drawings I complete seem a disgrace
when ‘beauty’ from my pen on paper’s paled
against the real thing I find in your face
when amateurish efforts to record
your smile and all you have to make my day
result in what is obviously flawed
as if my talent has all leached away
I grasp the chance to stare at you again
and hope your life in charcoal form’s retained
or in plan B, the different form of rhyme
my faults demand I see you one more time

Forever my intent and you aren’t matched
as confirmation, see the proof attached


posted in: Poems 2016 | 0

I feel better when I am aligned

And I am,

at times,

times I cherish I try and hold on to their memory

When the chaos descends

When I feel out of sync


out on a limb

If there are moments and elements

Of who I can and want to be

A me that is light and at peace

Then it’s a definite possibility

They could grow and form

One day, maybe, become my norm

Feeling Blue.

I bend down,
pick up the tiny gem.
Reflecting the sea,
polished by shells,
I feel its smoothness against my hand.
An animal’s eye,
a mermaid’s jewel,
fallen from a necklace of history,
what story does it tell?
Sunny day blue.
It lifts my spirits,
I’d dragged myself out,
my will had fought back,
it took everything to open that door;
now the tiny piece of glass shines in my hand.
I was angry,
I was upset,
now the tiny piece of glass shines in my hand.
A treasure to treasure.
The grey mist rises,
the sandy footsteps walk out my despondency,
in my palm the tiny bead shares its strength,
the lid is lifting.

The River

A thousand years this river ran,
Alone and lost like me.
I climb the rail this empty night,
One step will set me free.

I throw my phone and watch it fade,
The water far below.
The words they send won’t hurt me now,
They’re just a distant glow.

But a little voice says
Oh, don’t go,
Don’t throw it all away.
The love you seek will be with you,
Just wait another day.

I’m on the edge, the devil’s choice,
The two unwelcome worlds.
But then a sound behind me and
I hold the rail and turn.

An old man leans upon the rail,
He finds it hard to breathe.
He speaks to me with sad, dark eyes,
“Son, wait a moment, please”.

I want to jump, to get away,
But something in his voice.
“When I was young, I stood here too,
And made a better choice”.

And a little voice says
Oh, don’t go,
Don’t throw it all away.
The love you seek will be with you,
Just wait another day.

He offers me a cup of tea,
A biscuit and a chat,
And as we walk, and talk of life,
I can’t help thinking that,

The angels come in many forms,
Not just with wings of feather.
It’s funny how a friendly face,
Can leave me feeling better.


It was what it was, I know that now
although at the time, I didn’t know how
to ignore the fizz of lightning,
the temper of storms,
I didn’t know then that the temper was yours…
I do now.

At first it was passion, a tidal flood
of ideas and intentions, all of them good,
we were going to change things, give people a choice,
but later I knew that the only voice
we heard was yours.
I know now.

It took a long time for the bruises to heal,
the scars of the battle are something you feel
until friends come calling smiling bright,
the screams and nightmares fade with the light
of people you trust.
I know now, and feel better when I don’t see you.

The Battle

posted in: Poems 2016 | 0

Restless troubles pierce my mind

As an arrow punctures flesh

Thoughts rush like blood from torn skin

The battle has begun

A cruel weakness renders me unable to fight

And the wound begins to hurt

I cry.

I cry in vain

I reach for my armour and clothe myself in recovery

I close my eyes and calmly surrender to the chaos all around

I’ve been at battle before

And I have been the victor

I lie in the midst of the angst

I will not be taken as a casualty

And then serenity

A renewed energy washes over me, like a lifeless body rising from the dust

Wounds heal as quickly as they tore

And although I’ll wear my battle scars for ever more

The White flag is waved

Peace is restored


posted in: Poems 2016 | 0

Just as the butterfly emerges from a cocoon

So I emerge from recovery

My wings now bright and beautiful

My body now set free

And just as the butterfly dances in the sun kissed sky

I too find joy in expressing my unique creativity

And just as the butterfly finds peace amongst the flowers

I too find serenity in delicate friendships

And just as the butterfly shows magnificence in her transformation

I too feel better when I embrace the changes on life’s journey

And just as the butterfly inspires with her tiny but majestic being

I too discover a gift of gentle inspiration

And I use it to write this poem

Just Do It

Watching birds makes me happy.
I know they don’t care.
They just eat all the seed
Then they take to the air.
But they do me no harm
And I know if I could
Fly away
Just like them
Then I would………..
Well I might…………
Probably wouldn’t really…………
Oh just shut up and feed the birds.


posted in: Poems 2016 | 0

I used to think I was different

Now I see I am unique

I have a special place

In the vibrant world we live

I watch the world go by

Each and every morning

All the different people

With their different stories

A unique mind

A unique story

One which I’ll hold

One which I’ve told

One which is mine

And mine alone

I know I’m strong

I’ll keep fighting on

I used to think I was different

Anxiety gripped my mind

Frightened to be myself

I let life pass me by

But now I’ve found some happiness

I thought this could never be

Time heals us somehow

We find a way to break free

A unique mind

A unique story

One which I’ll hold

One which I’ve told

One which is mine

And mine alone

I know I’m strong

I’ll keep fighting on ‘cause we all need understanding

We need the space just to ‘be’

To be heard and tell our story

How we managed to break free

To accept ourselves for who we are

The strength in what we’ve survived

Inspiring others to do the same to hold our heads up high

Outside I Am Free

posted in: Poems 2016 | 0

Summer drifts by slowly

The sun is yellow and bright Warm weather most days

And the beautiful sky at night Summer turns into Autumn

The leaves turn orange and brown

Crunching the leaves with my boots

On the way to town

Outside I am free

With nature I’m at peace

On my windowsill I plant some tiny seeds of

Rosemary, basil and Thyme Watch them grow over weeks

I watch the clouds floating past

From my windowsill I look over the buildings

See the birds flying low

Outside I am free

With nature I’m at peace

Winter creeps and it’s freezing

The air is damp and cold

I think of all the good times waiting

I let the New Year unfold I wrap up warm in my coat

Go outside today I breathe out frosty air

I know that spring is not far away

Outside I am free With nature I’m at peace

Right Now

I know that I feel nicer when I’ve spicy food inside of me I find that I feel finer when my furry feline fusses me It’s likely I’ll feel lovely if I live and love wholeheartedly I can tell I feel terrific when those troubles aren’t to mind And I kind of feel contented when I’m cosy on my own But I bet I’m even better when I get a letter from a friend. Write soon.

Tuesdays (Connection).

I feel better when I let a regret go; When I make a selection And I choose a direction, And when I find a connection. I feel better when I let a regret go; When I shake preconceptions By overcoming rejection, When I face an objection But they make an exception. And when I find a connection. I feel better when I let a regret go; When I relive a section Of a loved recollection. When I hide my inside, and I’m evading detection, When I see my reflection And embrace imperfection. I feel better when I let a regret go; When there’s garbage collection. (Tuesdays) I feel better when I find a connection.

Say —

Say —

at a bus-stop, waiting on your own,
a day of dulled cloud, almost rain,
your mind tuned to an inner moan
of life being too much grey, again.

And, say, your only company’s
a straggling hedge, a litter bin,
the road’s dirt edge, some scrubby trees,
a cold wind sanding down your skin.

But your eye wanders, say, and there’s
damp holly, leaves like gleaming glass,
wet-bottle-green; its brilliance shares
a flash-light quiver in the grass

so, looking harder, say, you see
a blackbird’s eye, his orange bill
deep in the dandelions, three
fat daisies, one late daffodil

then start to match all this to words,
your own to catch, exact – but how?
the glittering laughter of the birds?
the noise of yellow here and now?

The bus turns up. Your mind’s alive –
making, remaking: words that sway
and dance and shine, and yours to drive
forward and eager. Share them, say?

The Day Fades Away

I feel better when I am awake and it’s dawn not sunset. So the day hasn’t faded and drifted away. As you can never know with my dolly mixture of prescribed pills for the body and mindsets. So a quick coffee mischievously laced with brandy and just one cigarette. This old man has allowed himself to avoid being upset. After medication it’s time for transcendental morning mediation oh to possibly float above the floor,without my body aching or mutter Buddhist mantras, dance Sufi trances,chant Rosicrucian secret practices or maybe Mindfulness: focus on a leaf for a while and find an inner smile. Busy afternoon then dusk : created to call children home and the aged to ruminate and reminisce. Night time comes, so there is the promise of tomorrow! Then I can stamp and smack my worn warm boots in the snow leave my cosmic footprint forever in returning cold. Find some warmth in the fading of the day that has been given and that’s when I feel better when I am ….