Our winter ski holiday,
Years later, no more than a treasure
A shadowy memory
An element of toujours perdrix
A sign to the past
Together we navigate
the slippery road ahead
Crisp white winter
Warm within, cold without
Years slow the body, not the mind
We sit, wait for mind and body to catch up
To forget the wonderful winter holidays skiing
Time to make new memories
Slow, warm, indoor memories
I could see his blue sweatshirt was torn The pain inflicted shone on his face The vulgarity of it tore at my heart There grew a longing to help I noticed white feathers drop beside the young boy Which told me an angel was watching over him An old saying popped into mind Trouble follows trouble Is there a way to bluff your way through life? Dodge fate? Will he end up with butterfliesand rainbows? He lay on the park bench as peoplejostle by I sit opposite, catching a glimpse of him Like looking through a slatted window His life in small slices Is there a way to double his luck? What a pity I am not his fairy godmother I would take away the terriblefate I fear for him I hope the white feather has some merit…
Walking towards the glowing archway My sister said Phlegethon, Watch out for fairies She loved to throw out big words It’s Sunday, mum thinks we are in church I kick a tin can, bored I wanted to smuggle my bike from the shed Mum was watching from the kitchen window I swear she is psychic She knows how to dig things from my mind I crack my knuckles I yell to my sister not to step into the triangle of flowers Too late, I felt time flip. She was gone I heard the whisper of her voice Telling me it’s all right The mellifluous voice that followed her message Sounded sickly sweet, too smooth for my liking What the hell am I to tell mum Or does she know all ready?
Hands are made to touch, to feel sensation Hot, cold, silk, satin, warm skin on a cold night To give us music, to soothe another’s sorrow To hold a new borne baby’s head, feel that tiny life Remembering hands were not always so kind Not so long ago they were in the dark ages Now, hands we never get to see, grow food for us Make the clothes on our backs Shoes to stop the heat of the day Burning through our soles Best of all, are the hands that love you the most…
I struggle with the amount of elbows That poke me in the back, the side I wish someone could save me from public transport Last week, I almost found myself on the floor With the rush of elbows When did they become weapons? It is most disconcerting being beaten up By a well-dressed warrior Someone else overheard my remark I had not meant to speak out loud The daily struggle is too much I need a new direction in life Heaven knows what I can do The corrosion in my life Help me to follow a better tune Checking my savings account My tiny flat is paid for So, I can see I have enough for about a year Can I write a number one bestseller in that time? Don’t ask, do…
I believe in the other side Whether you can see it or not It is always there, like dust motes That float, no matter how many times you clean the house? As you walk through the room You see them, caught in a light beam from the window. You never feel them touch your cheek Unlike the remote seduction That had me lip biting, dizzy with feelings I cannot define, my breath shallow Body tremble, shattering sound The supply of pleasure beyond words Behind the mask, a guttural sound A voice full of gravel Shattering all illusion I am awake now…
The dishonourableso and so Standing on the sidewalk With that cocky look on his face So sure of his self Believing most folk will forgethis misdeeds. I wear the crystal he gave me. He was someone I loved. The chains he wove have fallen from me. I am no longer cramped, hiding in corners. Awareness floods my being. I have no need to search my mind, Looking for ways to blame myself. His loftyplatitudes fall on the ground behind me, Where they vanish like fallen leaves Picked up by the wind…
Dancing in the dark, beneath the new moon I spot a tiny distant star First star at night, I make my wish Let life never end Let my life go on forever Let moonlight enter each new life Let the mystery of moonlight live on Teaching magic in subtle ways Let me forever dance beneath This mysterious light…
The shape of wind Looked like a greasy bacon sandwich I heard the scream of excitement As the float passed us on new easy wheels That stayed on this time Looking over the heads of the crowd I could see the return of the shirtless man in apartment 3B I have been told that nothing good Comes of his beautiful body on display through his window for all to see Don’t let his smile fool you He breaks hearts like others collect stamps There is value in stamps, you get nothing For a broken heart…
Worry is a terrible thing, it steals the quality of life from right under your nose, reducing your world into a place of doom and gloom. We have been sitting on a massive worry these past six months and have refused to start the new year until we had good news.
I have desperately tried to keep everything normal, finish my WIP and keep the website going, but have to admit it was a poor imitation of the real thing, and I apologise for that.
I have not been sharing much of this with our friends and followers and this may seem strange after all your incredible support when Anita had that massive heart attack in 2020. Your love and good wishes pulled us through that terrible time, but when disaster struck again last year, it seemed far more serious, and we really felt that talking about it might make it worse.
Anita’s heart is still severely damaged, and despite having two stents and a pacemaker fitted, it only barely functions. When a series of lumps started to appear around her neck last year, the alarm bells started ringing again.
Because of the raging virus and all the hospital delays, it took months to have the lumps investigated. The consultant mentioned cancer and after deliberation, they finally decided to remove part of her thyroid. Surgery was a problem as they didn’t think her heart was strong enough, but they said that delaying it was not an option.
A nightmare time for all the family, especially Anita for she can’t abide hospitals at the best of times. My sister has never been ill and to be struck down by two life threatening illnesses almost at the same time seems very unfair. She made it through the surgery without incident, but we had to wait two agonising weeks to get the results of the tests.
By this time, we were all terrified and sick with worry, dreading the news.
The day of the appointment, I felt sick to my stomach but somehow kept a smile on my face. I think I held my breath when she was called into the consultants office, but five minutes later the door opened and she rushed out of the room, a massive smile on her face. We watched in amazement as she ran out of the ENT department to a standing ovation from the nurses.
By this time, we knew the news must be good, but I wanted to know how good. Just before we all reached the lifts, I caught her arm and made her stop walking. ‘Well,’, I said and waited.
She stood there and laughed at me, and I didn’t think she was going to say anything.
‘THERE IS NO CANCER,’ she shouted.
All the way home in the car, she kept saying those words, and her relief was wonderful to see. Despite the odds, her poor old ticker had survived the surgery and she was cancer free.
But four days later, we had to rush back to the hospital, as Anita was having trouble breathing. She is now back home, but it seems that worrying isn’t going anywhere after all.
She is looking better, although still very weak and breathless much of the time. The list of her medications grows ever longer, but … and you may have noticed this, none of what happened has stopped her writing her poetry.
Now all I have to do, is get my own head back together!
Stuck between the tick and the tock The Joker plays his final hand. It was bound to happen, wedged between the pack The two cards merge under the Jokers spoken word Lovers from the beginning, Nothing would have kept them apart. The Joker, thinking he has done them wrong To mess up the pack, to pay the many hands back For leaving him out of the games they play He has done those broken souls a favour, Bringing them together A spell once woven, is rarely broken when love is true. Turn the card over to read the final words the Joker spoke to seal the deal. Off with their heads!