One Woman’s War

A navy blue river
runs down the A5*
sheet of green paper
that rustles in the quiver
of her clammy hand

Misty eyes scour
the blurred lines,
searching for meaning
in the weary letters
scrawled by a stranger

The last of one man
in ten sentences delivered.
Deadpan.
He regrets, she shivers,
and knows the truth

Her wombwarm babe,
whose downy head
she waved to
only yesterday,
lies cold and shroud covered.

 

*Standard paper size measuring 148 x 210 mm, half of normal A4 letter size.

Lindisfarne Castle, Northumberland, England

We visited Northumberland for the first time recently and were stunned by its exquisite empty stretches of dune-lined beaches, it’s many castles, each steeped in history, and the varied wildlife. Even the stormy sky has it’s own beauty!

It’s only three hours away and we will definitely be returning soon!

Heavy Skies over Lindisfarne Castle

Heavy Skies over Lindisfarne Castle, Northumberland

Rebooting my blog

The eagle-eyed amongst you will have noticed a bit of a change to my blog this last week or two. You see, I had a ‘moment’ a couple of weeks ago when I was feeling a bit lonely, a bit unloved and unwanted.  I wasn’t getting many visitors, no comments, no activity.  Apparently not even good enough to include advertising. I felt left out.

Not the first time in my life.  I was always one of those kids.  The left out ones.  The odd-bod, the loner whether I wanted to be or not.  As I got older, I found meetings and conferences uncomfortable, feeling as if I was an imposter, not good enough to hold my own. Not clever enough to hold a conversation with all those important, intelligent folk. And that exactly sums up how I was feeling about blogging. Now, my usual response would be to give up –

‘Face it, you’re not good enough, you’ve given it a shot and failed, might as well find something else to do with your time’

But if being part of this on-line community has taught me anything, its that well, anything goes.  Your blog is your own, who really cares if anyone reads it, as long as you enjoy writing, posting, sharing.  So I decided to pull myself up by my bootstraps, and start shoving things on here pretty much for my own amusement.

My ‘ditties’ for instance (still can’t bring myself to call them poems – seems pretentious).  I’ve been posting them in the ‘poetrysoup’ community for some time, but always blushingly. Posting them on my blog seemed scary, as if I’m inviting criticism and ridicule. However, on one of my braver days I went for it, and hey, d’ya know what…they’ve got likes…lots of likes.  It’s great!

Likewise, with the photos. I’ve got a pretty good camera, and I really love taking photos and have thousands knocking around. Some of them are ropey, some of them seem quite good to me (fair enough, I’ve an untrained eye..) I’d never call myself a photographer, but, you know, we’ve travelled quite a lot and, well, why not share them I thought.  And yes, they’ve got likes too. Gosh, I’m on a roll…

I started my blog pretty much as a journal type thing, a diary documenting what I’ve found to do with my life since retirement, and up until now I felt I should stick to that formula.  But I’ve found diversifying is a real treat, and eye-opener.  I’ve found lots of other poets and poetry blogs that I hadn’t come across before, and some wonderful photography sites that I can learn from. I’m starting to write a bit about each photograph I post – blimey, you never know, maybe it’ll become a travelog!

I can post a picture or poem much quicker than I can write an article, so I’m able to keep the whole thing more active. And, through necessity, I’m learning a lot more about utilising the tools available to make my site look and behave better. Best of all, I’m getting a lot more visitors to my site (still not enough…come on you slackers..) and the number of followers is going up daily (yay! Hellooo and hugs to you all…)

I’ve got lots more ideas, and things to share, and I’m still learning, so over time, I expect the blog to morph some more. It’s all a bit of an adventure then, and thinking of something to post has stopped being a chore and has become exciting and fulfilling again.

Notice

Notice how the sun feels on your skin
How the wind makes you squint your eyes
How the rain makes you shiver
How the snow makes you smile

These things make you alive

Notice how soft the pillow is
when you rest your head
How warm the water is
straight from the tap
How the walls keep out the weather
to keep you dry and safe

These things make you rich

Prayer to the Reaper

Death creep quietly to my side
smooth the life lines from my face
let the darkness rest my eyes
and wrap me in your cold embrace

Lift the troubles from my soul
soothe the ache from weary bones
I will submit without recoil
‘til but the shell of me remains

Stop my heart from pumping blood
so lips no longer crave the kiss
Tears will dry upon my cheeks
the scars of life to turn to dust

Then teary eyes remember life
and turn their gaze towards the light.

The Old and the New

I took this picture when we were staying in London for my Graduation a few years ago.  Even though it’s taken from the side and you can’t see it clearly, I love this picture of St Paul’s Cathedral, not only for some really wonderful memories of that particular weekend, but because of the way its remarkable architecture looms imperially over the gawdy lights of the shopping mall.

St Paul's Cathedral, London, England

St Paul’s Cathedral, London, England

 

 

Backpacker Mother

This was inspired by my daughter’s current trip around South America, which she has loved while I have worried.  I’m a bit jealous too to be honest!

Backpacker Mother

In the tangled jungle of my mind
creepies and crawlies
bite and suck.
They feast on your blood
and fill you with venom.
Howls of the night
keep you from rest,
and contorted vines
grab at your feet.

Oh, and the poisons
that turn your mind within
and make you fear your past.
And your future.
Those poisons in the smoke,
the innocent leaf,
and the full round berries,
Juicy and ripe,
that would lull you to a soundless sleep.

In the cave-dark recesses
I see nothing but danger.
Whilst you, bathing in the dappled sun,
taut with adrenalin,
lean and young and brilliant,
agile and streetwise,
your light shields your eyes
seeing only the soft green shoots
and fearful creatures.
Seduced by that beguiling woodland.
Aware of only good

You go where I would fear to travel.

Take care. x