You arrive.
Dark clouds disappear.
You laugh.
Music to my ears.
A clatter.
Up stairs two by two.
You chatter.
Nothing else matters.
I wish
I wish my arms
Were long enough
To keep you encircled
In my embrace
Like mister tickle
I wish I could move
With you from place
To place
With that bracelet
From Blake’s seven
I wish my brain
Had a special GPS
To warn you of any obstacle
Like those CIA drones
I wish I could Uber eat
Chicken soup and
Chocolate milk to you
Whenever you are hungry.
But I’m just a Mummy.
Positive Self Talk
A tiny hook seems to tug at my gut While I tap and I zap and can’t stay put I’d like to take a big deep breath I want to close my eyes and rest This worm of anxiety threads through my thoughts And I know now that this night will not be short I talk to myself, ’it will all be alright’ And, ‘you can sleep on another night’ By the stale blue light of my mobile screen A periscope on the world from a submarine Lost in the deep blues of ‘what if’ anxieties ‘Imagining the worst’ of many varieties Sinking, I will toss myself a life line A glance at the window glint of moonshine To remind me of the solid reassuring shape Of the familiar neighborhood landscape My interior monologue doesn’t fool me. It’s the same old witless repartee Insomnia plays hide and seek and wins While ‘may never’ happens make my head spin Stop this whirling pondering I should So this positive self talk had better be good!
A long fall
You have fallen from grace in my eyes I ask,was It all just lies? Other words have reached me, And cast doubt on yours you see Thinking back I knew from the start You are an illusionist But what you missed Was the magic of a full heart Mine skipped a beat And when I looked up again The illusion was incomplete
Only a spark
I’m asleep with my eyes open
dreaming of you.
On my mind
Your face
A nostalgic tattoo
An indelible trace
By the time you wake up I’ll be gone
Only a spark
Just the start
But you let it get dark
You carry such grace
And that look on your face
The musical laugh
The sound of your voice as you pass
By the time you wake up I’ll be gone
But the dream wears on
Question Time
Four am. Awake. Question time. Questions playing on my mind. Will it get easier? If so, why? How? When? If not now why then? Missing you. It's what I do best. It's become my quest. A difficult habit to quit. I won't get used to it. If you and I have split, Why am I torn in two, At the four am thought of you? How can I forget. You plus I makes one? Even if you are gone. All that binds us together. Makes leaving wrenching apart. Tearing at my heart. Begging the question why. Because it's question time. You are on two tracks In the train bound for Spain While I bed bound cannot refrain From a one track groove in my mind For You you and you is all I find Your face your smile your ways All the things I won't see for days... What to do, I can't think of anyone But you..
We Three
With all of the vocabulary In French or English dictionaries It's hard to find the lexical key To talk about our group of three How can a phrase or paragraph Describe the times that we have laughed, That we have danced and gone off script That we have twirled, or jumped or skipped The moments when we broke the rules With meals on sofas after school The rainy days you stayed inside And dressed like little princess brides The stories shared upon my knees The many menus from our deep freeze The secrets stored and then revealed The veggies left after your meals The homework finished in a huff Revision time never enough The songs performed, guitar and drum Making me a prouder mum. Friends to stay here over night Thus diluting the sibling fights Clothes to choose, new bags new shoes Some questions over whose are whose All these moments that we share Are answering all of my prayers A life of love and fun to nurture I have found and need not search for.
Vitamins.
If there is a vitamin For everything You are the vitamin, to make my heart sing But give me the one For the end of the song An extra strong one Now that you have gone Find me a cure For my heart which is sore Since you showed me the door Though of this I am sure You are my vitamins a b and c You are the one to heal me.
Peter Newman
In his posh pullover Uncle Pete, was as ever, neat. He always had a tale to tell Wearing that big grin, as well There with a huge bear hug Standing on the hallway rug A starchy shirt a smart new tie With outstretched arms and sparkling eyes. Caring about our every progress Celebrating in any small success Three generations of us Lived within his generous love He shared in times of joy for me And in the sadder times you see He never turned away. With a strength that never swayed.
I don’t want flowers.
I don't want roses, Or any other posies, I just want you. I don't want tulips, Just your two lips, On my two. I don't want daisies, Just you, all amazing, Six foot of you. No, I don't want any flowers, But lots more stolen hours, Just me and you.
