Wednesday, July 9

A Poem For Thursday

The Blue and White Ikea Sofa

It's seen better days
The old Ikea blue and white striped sofa bed.
But there I sit
Opposite the sky blue french windows
And look out on to the garden.
It has the best view
of all the seats
In the wood framed building
We call the summer house.

Once it housed single mums
Held the pain easing smoke
Of skinny roll-ups
That was before we came to a more mature understanding
Of teenage girls and their babies.
Before councils asked what colour they would like
The kitchen to be.
As if a different colour on the cupboard doors
Could ease the the terror of listening alone
To a baby cry and cry.

But the garden is looking good this year.

Tuesday, May 13


At twentyone I left the land
And travelled on the Irish Sea.
I reached a southern port
And taught the children
On the chalky hills.
They thought I was a foreigner

French perhaps.

At twentysix I travelled north
And settled in a smokey town,
Where words were old and beer
Was drunk on Friday nights
In crowded bars.
They thought I was a foreigner.

Scotch perhaps.

In troubled times I went back west
To where the planted people lived.
And dodged the bombs and
Feared the fires where city folk
Still walked and worked.
I felt I was a foreigner.

English perhaps.

Now forty years have come and gone.
And wars are fought and lives are lost,
And fights are won or
So they say though where
Or when I do not know.
And none of us are foreigners.

Human perhaps.

...this is my response to the prompt put up by Marina on DeVerse Poets Pub today.
I have posted this one before but the time seems right in so many ways world wide for it to  be part of DeVerse  this time.....thankyou Marina.

Saturday, April 26

Blue-booted Camels

...these fine ladies came out of the kiln this morning and into the sun ...
...what more could we ask of them!!
...a swing to the left.... 
...curtsey to the right...
...and altogether now with a good ending!!!

Thankyou Ladies!

Tuesday, April 22


...a new commission has brought these fellows into being....
...wearing boots and ready for action...
...they will soon leave so I'm making sure that I have a memory of them...

Monday, April 21

In the Garden...

...the frogs have spawned and turned into tadpoles...
...hooray... out you slugs and snails...

Wednesday, April 2

A Poem for Thursday

The prompt we were given at The Writer's Workshop on Thursday morning in The Gateway Warrington was a card. Mine had a pic of a baby polar bear and inside the word ...Christmas!!
So in a couple of hours I came up with this offering!

Baby Polar Bear

"Christmas comes but once a year
And when it comes it brings good cheer."
But if you're stuck upon a floe
And there is nowhere else to go
It's hard to keep a cheerful face
Accept what's happened with good grace.
I didn't mean to push my brother
He landed one way or another
Inside our mother's fishing hole.
He didn't like the freezing cold.
He screamed and called me such rude names
And mother said I was to blame
For all the things that made her mad
Broke her heart and left her sad.
I thought that rotten fishy heads
I left beside her on the bed
Would pacify and calm her down.
Would make her smile, but when she found
Them sticking to her tummy fur
That ..was the very end for her.
I sit upon this icy floe
And wonder which way it will go.
If north, I'm sure to find my way
If south to melt? well who can say....
If Christmas on some warmer shore
Will find me laid out on the floor.
A present for some mother's child
My eyes still sad whiskers wired.
I'm going to promise to be good
To be the joy I know I could
If only to be sure that they
Are MY presents on Christmas day!

I'm linking this one into DeVerse...Poetics....hope it finds some laughter!!!

Thursday, March 13

A Poem For Thursday

Revelation Day

This morning
In particular.
This morning…
After the afternoon
Even before the evening
And this morning…
My feelings
Are too powerful to ignore.
Stirred up are feelings
Long time hidden
Under plastic washable
Keep it clean-ness.
Today they are revealed.

I remember soldiers
In blue cotton suits
Up the hill...
Up to the red brick hospital.
To the building that dare not speak it’s name
Too much to think of

Too much to answer to.
I remember soldiers
Gazing out of steamed up bus windows
Making their way
To some safety.
Back up the hill.
Making me nervous.
Watching me
The child watching.
The child feeling
Fear that oozed from every glance.
Fear that hit me
As it had hit them…
That tried to envelope me
That caused me to run
To avoid that
Which I would never know.
Strong emotions
In a culture
Inside and away.
Away  away.
Revelation can take a life time.
Today is revelation day.

We went to the Royal Exchange Theatre in Manchester yesterday to see an adaptation of Virginia Woolf's book "Orlando". I find that theatre often releases long gone memories in me...and so it was with this. 
The poem has really nothing at all to do with the story of Orlando but somehow this is what came tumbling out today.

I'm linking in with DeVerse today....I think that the poem fits the bill......thankyou Brian for the prompt!