Saturday, 19 March 2011


In my head, again, - a picture of tomorrow;

subtle, endearing, scary

as if I’ll be attacked (the sky might just collapse);

- go tits up

in a workshop or the meeting, or a bus ride

or the traffic lights at red

engendering a little fear, a fluttering heart

and shortening of breath,

even though I’m sitting up in bed

the night before. My need’s not guts or bravery

but to stay aware, inspired as a baby,

walking steadfast and assured into a mess,

witnessing respect

and do my work - my best.

Thursday, 17 March 2011

Magi at the Lake

Many yards they walked

over rough ground - three ducks to

share our bread and wine.

Wednesday, 16 March 2011


Wobble to the bathroom mirror,

slippers on formica tiles,

(older than they ever were)

stained a little, thin,

look on, and in, there for a hope of

stars or suns and galaxies

more light-years than pronounceable

and way beyond any dancing dust

but, no, I see a face;

misty in the silver, glass,

ancient as my father, yes,

fading now but, yes, with eyes

(retina and iris)

burning still, a facet.

Monday, 14 March 2011

Andrew - making a day

Ask a stranger’s name

and call them by their moniker

again, again, again. Smile!

Pose some little question

about themselves, a happenstance;

their tiny likes and dislikes, fads,

(and food’s a classic - fries and puddings,

vegetables, drink?) Persist.

Question ‘are you married?’

with a little twinkle

then ask them, now, to help you

in some small way – like, get a drink.

Call them by their name, again.

Say ‘I love you.’ Smile.