Monday, 30 December 2013

Berlin, November 1989

A cold night
For a tired London girl
To be walking the streets of Berlin.
The polar streets of Berlin.
Each seemingly a wind tunnel,
Blowing iciness into her inner core.
So she walked,
Head down
Hands in pockets
Intent on her hotel room
And a hot bath
To bleed blessed heat
Into her frozen bones.

Lifting her head
At the Kurf├╝rstendamm
The better to cross the road
Tired London girl's eyes
To take in
The glorious sight.
A road filled with serpents.
Rail tails one way,
White eyes the other.
Teeny tiny Trabants
Devoid of colour in the glare
Of sparkling Christmas lights.
Each tin can crammed
With incredulous humans
Soaking up the brightness,
Breathing in the glitz
Unavailable for years

Tears in the eyes
Of tired London girl.
Cynicism washed away
At the sight of
Grey garment clad masses,
Their faces pressed against the glasses
Of the effervescent shop windows
Ironically, describing the brothers Grimm,
But none so grim and colourless
Than the lives they led.

Tired London girl's fingers
Explored her pockets
Feeling the gritty nugget
She'd struck from the Wall
The night before.
How lucky she felt.
To be here,
At this time.
Nights like these,
Times like these,
Are magical.

Joining with "Imaginary gardens with real toads" open link Monday, actually inspired by their last prompt.

Sunday, 29 December 2013


Disappointed with myself
I feel nothing
Shuffling with your silent spirits,
Circling around the cold, callous, concrete coffins.
I feel nothing.
Am I just a hollow husk of humanity?

Breaking into my reverie,
A ray of rare winter sunlight
Penetrates the impenetrable.
Terrifying teenage laughter follows. 
A glimpse of you
Glances the desolation of my soul.
I understand, do I?
Happiness happened in horror,
Hope harboured in hopelessness.
Thank you kind spirits.

A response to a visit to the Holocaust Memorial in Berlin.
Stay with me, I hope to be more cheerful soon.
Sharing in the Poetry Pantry at Poets United

Thursday, 26 December 2013

Cliff dwellers

My line has ventured
From Moher through flat lands, here.
Cliff dwellers are we.


Granite holds secrets
Buried prisoners in rock. 
Gifts of our ancients

Ancient gifts entombed
Frozen messages in snow. 
Words, music, rhythm. 

Started for a prompt at Carpe diem
And as it grew it morphed into the prompt Gift at Haiku Heights.

Monday, 23 December 2013

Interpretations, part 1

Inspired by a visit to the Holocaust Memorial, Berlin, Germany

I don't understand.
It's a good thing, I think.
I stand amidst these concrete sarcophagi
I don't understand.

I don't understand.
What was the artist thinking
When he envisaged this?
I don't understand.

I don't understand.
How did this  intolerable termination happen?
How could humanity countenance this?
I don't understand.

I don't understand.
Then I think of Sudan,
Then Syria, Afghanistan.
I still don't understand.

I still don't understand.
What is happening now,
Here in my world.
Though, what have I done?
Impotence, can one person make the difference?
I understand now.

Sharing with Poetry Pantry on Poets United


Open link Monday in the Imaginary garden with real toads

Wednesday, 18 December 2013


I was lighting the candle 
On the wreath today,
The one you assembled
Erst you went away.

It got me to thinking
What a year I have had.
It's not been the greatest.
I came over all sad.

I shed a few tears,
Well, a small inland lake.
Then patted them dry 
Did a quick double take.

I gave to myself
A stern talking to. 
And made a few promises
Took a new point of view

I'll think only of joyous things
The gifts in my life,
Lest I go at my wrists
With a blunt, rusty knife. 

Whoops, a bit of a backslide
Now forward I go
With a brilliant new list
Things that make my heart glow.

A long happy marriage
To one that I love.
Three healthy children
Sent from above.

A huge happy family
To whom I have turned 
On the many occasions
That I've crashed and burned.

The honour to live
In a beautiful land.
Last, a wonderful life
Which was mostly unplanned. 

Ah, the end of my list
At last we are here
With a heart that is happy
And full of good cheer.

Joining in with Verse first, at Poets United

Tuesday, 17 December 2013


The frost god exhaled
His hoary breath coated leaves
Dew froze instantly

For the prompt "dew" at Haiku Heights

Monday, 16 December 2013

The Guardian

Oh tiny angel 
With your radiant light,
Shepherd my flock
To their homes tonight.
Follow them, love them,
Keep them in care
As they wander the world
And I can't be there.
Protect them, guide them,
All safe and sound
As they follow their paths
And come, homeward bound.

Joining with Poets United Poetry Pantry

Sharing also with the Imaginary Toads

Thursday, 12 December 2013

Lost and found

In the cynosure of the sea
One foot in the present, one in the past,
The great divide, dividing me.

Looking behind me, what do I see?
White cliffs of Dover receding fast
Into a misty miasma in my lee.

How can it be
This Elysium, this Eden, my home once classed
Elicits an excitement now to flee?

Facing forward, what do I see
Emerging through silent sunbeams? Fringed, grassed
Pastures, stretching to eternity.

How can it be
That this multi culti land, so vast,
Calms my heart, is my serenity?

In the cynosure of the sea
One foot in the present, one in the past
Coalescent waves, unify me.

Sharing with Poets United for the prompt lost art a six stanza poem with two rhyming patterns.

Tuesday, 10 December 2013

The Irish Diaspora

Part one

Mystical migrants
Cultural celtish  cohorts
Time honoured travellers

Never more snakes here
Good St. Patrick prophesied

For the Carpe diem prompt prophecy

Photo by @lightlane on Instagram

Part two

Travellers return home
Colluding celtish brothers
Swearing to be free

No slithering snakes
Christianity supreme
Are we really free?

For the carpe diem prompt, land of the free

Part three
Fondness for freedom
Celtish tigers rule things here
Bad news for the king

Shrugging off snake skins
So too christianity
But Christmas is king

For the carpe diemprompt, for the king.

Part Four
You celtish tigers
Crouched, sprang, attacked, shot, bled, died.
Should we hail a King?


Snake skin shoes and bags
Consumerism rampant
Hail the Christmas king

For the carpe diem prompt,  hail the king

Monday, 9 December 2013


Lace lined loveliness
Rimy raging rivulets
Polarised prison

For the Haiku Heights promt, "Rivulets".

Today I am also in the "Imaginary garden with real toads"

Saturday, 7 December 2013

Trying something new

Really I'm not a girly girl,
My hair is short, devoid of curl,
My nails, oh goodness what a mess.
I don't do much for them, I confess. 
So today, thoroughly admonished
I indulged myself with a nice French polish.
There I was with lovely white tips,
Five minutes later, two whacking great chips.

Linking with poets united uk

Wednesday, 4 December 2013

High as a Kite

I climbed
Through the wide mountain meadows
Running fingers through
Thigh high grass, laced with blood red poppies.
Smelt the pureness of the air
And felt its fleeting frost kiss on my cheek.
I lay
Down beside the turquoise mountain lake,
Waves rippling gently in the breeze,
Put my hands beneath my head and
Shut my eyes, allowed myself to doze
To the lullaby of lightly lapping water.
I opened
My eyes and squinted into a blooming sun,
Its petals reaching out to touch
The misty trails of whiteness webbing the sky.
And saw it, sensuously sweeping, whispering to me.
A winged vision, magnificent, majestic, high as a kite.

Prompted by "verse first" at 
And open link at dverse

Thursday, 28 November 2013

A walk for my heart

These days
My heart sinks
When I am woken at the crack of dawn
By the perfidious snowplough,
Scraping through the upper layers of my dreams.
But not today.
Today, my heart soared.
The sun was shining full on,
Reflecting off the thin crust of gritty snow
Necessitating sunglasses. 
You know what?
My heart loves walking.
Particularly on a crisp, bright winter's day,
When every outward breath
Streams across the back drop of blindingly blue skies.
Oh and how
My heart sings
As do I, at the top of my voice
Accompanying my ipod.
My hills are alive with alarming a capella.
And so back home,
My heart filled
With happy bubbles, exploding ecstaticly,
Showering my innards with glee
On this beautiful morning.

Written for Verse First

How I switch off my auto pilot,  walking and writing. For reverb13 auto pilot

Sunday, 24 November 2013

Tree Gods

It looks pretty, doesn't it?
Pure white snow
Covering the sticky, clumpy clay
The farmer ploughed
Just the other day,
When it was Autumn.
Majestic pines, proud beasts
Of epic fairytales.
Tamed by powdered, whitening dust
Of virgin snow,
Sprinkled willy nilly. Just
Winter's opening gambit.
Standing in all knowing certitude
Of what's to come.
Swathes of foreign, freezing winds,
Blankets of whiteness
Against their woody ankles pinned,
Frozen to their roots.
Majestic pines, heroic warriors
of epic sagas.
Boughs entwined for mutual protection 
From virgin snow.
Sprinkled exposed spears, in reflection
Of winter's opening gambit.
Winter! Yggdrasil cries to heavy skies.
Come do your worst.
We've fought together since your time began
Virgins melt before us.
We are privy to your plan.
You shall not have us !

Your choice. 

For a prompt at dverse.  An idea from my picture calendar, the first day of snow.

Friday, 22 November 2013


The sun shone for the first time
In many days today.
Towering sentinels, tree guardians
Reached skywards to touch
Watery yellow skies
Laden with snow.
Breathe out, live again.

Written for Verse First 

Wednesday, 20 November 2013


Lifeless blood drained sky
Stark, black, bony fingered trees
Tired drooping soul

For Haiku Heights, Blood prompt

Tuesday, 19 November 2013

Blood of my blood

For Haiku Heights

Blood of my blood spurts
Through your lanky youthful frames
Thanks mummy dearest

Monday, 18 November 2013

Alien monsters

Cowering across the river
With fear filled heart
Breath almost eluding me.
The monsters awoke.
Fiercely glowering 
Those sinister clowns
Rose up
On spider thin legs
Stomping, wading towards me.
I ran south
Not looking behind me.
But heard,
Stone splintering, smashing,
Glass grinding underfoot.
Screeched across the skies
Rat tat tatting, bullets flying.
And water
Cut razorlike.
sneaked a look behind.
Creatures downed, drowned.

Linking to "Our World Tuesday" a view of London by an expat Londoner.

Sunday, 17 November 2013

The collective

I got as close as I could get,
Staying just outside their reach,
But I could feel their power
Money sucking like a bloody leach.
Resistance is not futile.
I will not obey.
I want to be an individual.
There must be another way
To stand against the collective.
Blurred edges to avoid.
What will happen do you think,
If I shout the word, Android?

Friday, 14 June 2013


I will wake up one fine day,
Pack my rucksack and be away.
Perhaps I'll leave a note by the kitchen sink
The family will see it there,  I think.
And now I feel guilty about the other half
I'll be happy if he joins me, it will be a laugh.
Maybe I'll leave him a special note.
He can join me, if it floats his boat.
I'll be by myself for a couple of weeks,
Find a quiet place, enjoy a few treats.
When he is ready, his bags all packed,
His employers informed with the utmost of tact.
Then we shall begin the tour of our years,
Putting behind us our dreary careers.
We've dotted the i's and crossed all the t's.
Educated our kids in the birds and the bees.
Done all the things we're supposed to do,
Now it's time for us, yes,  just us two.
It's our time to remember at last, once more
How to do all the things that we used to adore.
It's been so long since it's been just we,
We will have to experiment with fun and see
Well, just thinking about it has given me cheer
But, there are mails in the inbox and the phone's ringing, oh dear!

Saturday, 11 May 2013


One way in.
Heart racing,
Fear paced.
Slam the door of my red cage shut.
Engine silenced.

Turn my back on the mechanics of my world,
Face front and breathe.
Stunned by the intensity of alone.

Man is here.
I see his home.
I see his filth.
I see the marks he leaves behind.
I don't see him.

One way out.

Sharing with dverse open link night.

Monday, 29 April 2013

Double Vision

I suddenly saw him.
His fine angular profile,
Blonde hair just catching the light,
Framed in the doorway.

My breath held, life stopped,

There was only him.

He turned,

Breathe out...
Past me.


Good yes, 
No, bad.

He turned again.

He must see me,
This time.
Heads shake in unison,
We are one.

He stares ahead.

I stare, drink of him.
I want to touch,
To say...

I watch that familiar lollop.

Hands in pockets
Shoulders slumped,
Mirroring the archway.
I used to know all his thoughts.

I laugh.

I do now, this moment.

He turns.

OK, I motion,
Thumbs up, twirl hand.

He turns back

A shrug, a shaking head,
An eye roll,


I smile.
I think...

I love you.

Linking with dverse poets
Meeting the bar, hearth, home and common speech. 

Sunday, 28 April 2013



The world turned.
My hand,
Once young and wrinkle free
Held his tiny fist
Tight and secure within my own.

Life happened.
Wrinkled now
My fist contained within his
And loved.

Sharing with mindlovemisery and their prompt Tender love