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Jul 2018 · 182
For the beautiful.
Mary Gay Kearns Jul 2018
Sometimes the membrane, that transparent shield,
Splits, letting in a grey torrent of stony hail storms
Breaking the apple as it falls bruised base to earth
And no words ever replace the missing numbers
Or comfort those who choose a blinded alleyway
For them it will be life encased in time grown old.


Love Mary x
Jul 2018 · 541
Constance.
Mary Gay Kearns Jul 2018
I think I’ll call her Griselda or Florentine of the sea
She is lovelier than a star fish with eyes of green
And hair twists around this, brown ringlet, queen
Constance of graciousness a madamoiselle’s dream
Mood matches her dresses, bohemian with a spark
And nothing deters that subterranean love heart.

Love Grandma to Connie ***
Jul 2018 · 535
Evelyn thinks.
Mary Gay Kearns Jul 2018
Evelyn looked at the path in front
Meandering into the dark woods
And quietly considered the future.

Nettles grew about the side edges
And beetles and caterpillars climb
Hidden from bright hungry beaks.

She heard small animals twitching
And smelt the river’s down flows
Groundcover spreading its beauty.

The world was peaceful in her hand
And dad holding tightly the morning
As they walked slow along the curve.

Love Grandma **
Jul 2018 · 374
The Children.
Mary Gay Kearns Jul 2018
The children stood the sea beside
In toes the seaweed hair
A row of beauty just begun
To float a sparkle in the air.

Love Mummy **
Jul 2018 · 973
One has to laugh.
Mary Gay Kearns Jul 2018
I tried but the deafeating sound of death captured me
Tore away the shreds of dignity laying peacefully
And I screamed to the damp grasses to let me free
But they withered away in cunningness for sanctuary.

So next day I got up and washed my hands and face
Found a pretty, party dress with contemporary lace
Bought a raspberry cake filled with artificial cream
And danced with dear Batty, Foggy and a spoon.

Life breaks hearts and fills this world with pain
It was in the beginning and still is just the same
But Pooh and Piglet, walk down a country lane
And Hundred Acre Wood is a lovely place to play.

Love to all Mary ***
Jul 2018 · 294
A Tree
Mary Gay Kearns Jul 2018
There is no longer a Sycamore tree
With its variegated, sap green leaves
Bringing a fluttering in the Sringtime
A steady, shady, dream filled breeze.

Our road was accustomed to rows of pairs
To keep each company year on new year
One Winter frost was bitter, time had come
For a friendship to be severed, lost and gone.

A tree outside a house is a very special joy
Waking each morning to the sound of birds
Now only in my photographs can I recall
The splendour of this object standing straight
And tall.

Love Mary x
Jul 2018 · 276
Sand soaked love
Mary Gay Kearns Jul 2018
The sun blisters the sky
Seagulls brittle the air
We scorch under towel
Watching the sea glisten.

This is a world with you
On the sand soaked love
West Whittering in May
The best always stayed.

Love Mary x
For my Roger love Pinky Woo. **
Jul 2018 · 196
Cabbage White.
Mary Gay Kearns Jul 2018
Down in the field where the dandelions grow
I took off my knickers and away did flow
Up on the hillside with a swish of my hat
Caught Cabbage White butterflies doing that.

Love Mary x
Jul 2018 · 255
On the bench.
Mary Gay Kearns Jul 2018
On the bench sits Roger
My lovely old codger
Long, silky, grey hair
A beard that rambles
Everywhere,
Two soft, brown eyes
Gentle hands
A book to read
That is my man.

Love to Roger from Mary ***
Jul 2018 · 157
Pictures on my walls.
Mary Gay Kearns Jul 2018
I have pictures on my walls
Pretty pictures one and all
Painted by friends I know
People who love and grow.

Everyday I look at them
Treasure the heart within
Gives me a life to breathe
Pretty pictures for to see.

Love Mary x
Jul 2018 · 3.0k
A daughter
Mary Gay Kearns Jul 2018
I am nothing beyond the starry sky
Just an atom in the fiery furnice
Smaller than a telescope can hit at
I once was a girl who moved in air
Kissed a boy and jumped for joy.

My days are gone for others to steal
Maybe someone with a face like me
To begin a story they nearly knew
And burst upon universe in flames
A daughter for someone to rename.

Love Mary x
Jul 2018 · 315
Loving cement.
Mary Gay Kearns Jul 2018
Two builders at my door
Mending the brickwork,
The hardwood board
That’s kindness for sure.

Tenderly I watch them point
With lovingly made cement
A tradesman’s gifted skill
Thank you Charlie and Bill.

Love Mary ***
Jul 2018 · 4.9k
Mick Jagger.
Mary Gay Kearns Jul 2018
One each end of a shelf
Victorian figurines
A boy and girl
Like crystalline
With stiff edged lace.
Never fell in love
But still precious
Bought by a Godmother
Who did not have children.

Then the plaster dancers
Spied in a box of my father’s
Given by a poor grandmother
Loved these two
With their net “tutus”
Such graceful arms
Long pointed legs
Felt their life twirling.

The difference between
Two worlds
The rich and stiff
Poor but beautiful.
My bedroom shelf,
With a poster of
**** Jagger,
in the middle,
smiling.

Love Mary x
This was my bedroom shelf in Streatham London.
Jul 2018 · 285
Dignity
Mary Gay Kearns Jul 2018
The sea quarrels with its maker
Twisting and turning
Hunching heaps of gravel
Onto the dry sand.

Life fights out its dignities
***** and hand
Leaving trembling
What was given and planned.

Love Mary
Jul 2018 · 601
Evil
Mary Gay Kearns Jul 2018
Corruption is a silly voice
Shiny with its own virtue
Nebulous, brimming gall
It thinks clever, dumb thing.


And when open, the pen slips
Onto flippant shoes, smiling,
And hands cradle evil on line
This person is hard to define.

Love Mary **
Jul 2018 · 418
The silent bright.
Mary Gay Kearns Jul 2018
The fairy danced upon my shelf
Ethereal like something else
She caught the glow of shaded light
Her footsteps silent in the bright


Oh little prancer of my dreams
Stay a while don’t leave too soon
The night is coldly the stars out
Wish me first a peaceful night.


For all little children..
Love Mary x
Jul 2018 · 235
A scattering of imagination
Mary Gay Kearns Jul 2018
Down the isles of wooden trestles
Set out in a quietly painted hall
The children look for the familiar.
Things, lost, things from loved sets
Pieces remembered and missed.
Clutching small change and a bag
They roam, searching the emptying
Surfaces in the hope of recovering.

Some children are selective buying little
Only the important objects that inspire
An unusual fossil, book on ammonites.
A collection of perfect My Little Ponies.
Then the scrambler children who stuff bags
To overflowing with excited assortments
Picked almost at random for a chance
Their to be explored strewn across kitchen
Table with an audience of friends.

There was always a late arrival just as doors
Were about to close and tea hatch latched.
As crowds diminished, looking became easier
Finding that magic dropped on the floor.

Love Mary x
Jul 2018 · 267
Tales from a bedroom.
Mary Gay Kearns Jul 2018
Four little mice
All dressed nice
Decided they’d
Learn to fly
So made some wings
From plasticine
And things
Stuck on stars
From a sweetie jar
Climbed the ladder
To top of their beds
And floated gracefully
Keeping their head.
My four little mouse
Friends.

Love Mum xxxxx
Jul 2018 · 130
A shiny branch .
Mary Gay Kearns Jul 2018
Can you catch me brother
Down in the ditches
Before I fall
And scrape my knees.

We’ll do our special
Where you go first
And I travel behind
Holding your hand.

The branch was shiny
Smoothed by rubber
And small greasy hands
Not too long to stand.

And we balanced along
A ballet dancer’s song
Feet repeating steps
And LEPT!

Love Mary x
Jul 2018 · 122
My Love
Mary Gay Kearns Jul 2018
A watermelon green on shelf
One tomato in isle two
And your hands to fetch
Your legs, a letter in box.

What I give you poor as I am,
A box of meteorites, a magazine,
A kiss on cheek, a hair cut or two
I would, everthing, for love of you .

Love Mary x
Jul 2018 · 1.5k
We are .
Mary Gay Kearns Jul 2018
I wonder where I was all those years ago
Not a twinkle in a soldier’s eye
Nor the girl who took the guides
To them I became a surprise.

I lay down on grasses green
With Pooh and Eeyore
In Hundred Acre Wood
Hope Eeyore has his balloon.

In my mother’s bookcase
Is where I would be born
In the names of wildflowers
And the songs of the birds.

My father’s walks in London Town
Hyde Park Corner, The Serpentine,
Visits to family in Chester Road.
This is where I would learn to know.

All those years ago I never knew
Who I might be coming to
But never was there a single regret
The couple that loved me were the best.

Love Mary ***
Jul 2018 · 318
When I collected sixpence
Mary Gay Kearns Jul 2018
Sixpence could buy you a lot
A plastic doll from Woolworths
Crayons and cut - out books
A pair of socks
Packet of curby grips
Box of handkerchiefs
Half a yard of lace
Cheap lipstick
Flannel for face
Pears soap
A remote boat.

The counters of Woolworths
Were stacked with joy
Something for all the
Boys and girls
Suspenders for mother
Shaving stick for dad
And packets of sweeties
That we all had.

Love Mary x
Jul 2018 · 136
Testimony to failure.
Mary Gay Kearns Jul 2018
Why did they let me die
Not even try
Incompetent errors
Written on letters.

No excuse can ever
Be made for their say
One day they may
Pray.
Unlikely I must say.

Love Mary x
Jul 2018 · 429
The life of a wild flower.
Mary Gay Kearns Jul 2018
Railway cuttings
Cut through my mind
The emptiness
Of what’s left behind.

A flower garden of wildness
Between broken sleepers
Who now find comfort
In railway suburbs.

Love Mary x
Jul 2018 · 253
At the station
Mary Gay Kearns Jul 2018
On the seat my legs would swing
letting a shimmer of party dress,
Under light coat, catch the light
Of the humid Summer sunset.

Outings rare as we waited the
Twitch of electricity, flashing,
And the train rolling into view
Coming around a sharp bend.

Lifting possessions we boarded
Finding a seat near the window
Watching the sodium lights
Turn orange in the darkening.

Watford to Euston in twenty minutes
Only one stop at Harrow and Wealdstone.
We disembarked through ticket barriers
And up the sloping tiled floor to Euston.

Love Mary x
Jul 2018 · 180
Afternoon.
Mary Gay Kearns Jul 2018
I shall miss you
Though me be gone
And the chair
Filled with toys.

And flowers bloom
In the afternoon
From a window
I once knew.

Love Mummy x

Love Mary x
Jul 2018 · 134
Walking back.
Mary Gay Kearns Jul 2018
Who walked to the end of a road
And turned back?
Realising the reason had been lost
Like a paper handkerchief
Just dropped on the pavement
Getting wedged between cracks
Arriving home with the sadness.
Jul 2018 · 203
Poem for a few.
Mary Gay Kearns Jul 2018
The words were deviously writ
With good hid well behind the line
And faithfully did fly the woods
To run the gauntlet and despise.

Love Mary x
Felt it needed slight alteration to make the beats into a tetrameter.
Love Mary
Jul 2018 · 83
Poem for the few.
Mary Gay Kearns Jul 2018
The words were deviously writ
With good hid well behind the line
And faithfully did fly the woods
To run the gauntlet and despise.

Love Mary **
Felt it needed slight alterations to make have correct beats .Love Mary x
Jul 2018 · 246
NYE BEVAN
Mary Gay Kearns Jul 2018
I remember that first excitement
Flowing through my heart
Pumping the life within
The baby soon to become
A son or daughter.

And I walk in gathered dress
Blue it was, with broderie anglaise
On a square yoke, falling
To above my knee
The doors slid open
Welcoming me in
The reception of life.

Recalling simply kindness,
A resplendent building,
Efficiency.
Open that year, 1970,
All ready for me.
And she was born there
Named after a ward
Katharine Maria
Seven pounds and eight ounces,
Dark hair and eyes,
And I felt loved.

Today, forty seven years on
And where love flourished
Weeds grow
Along the corridors
Of power, the *****
Toilets, empty beds,
No one wants to be
Here anymore.

We all left for home births
Our husbands and families.
Was the decline our fault?
Did our selfish desires
Perpetuate indifference?
I stood and cried
Watching the perfection
Of an idea wash away.

Love Mary x
Watford Maternity Hospital was a magnificent venture .Beautifully equipped , friendly , disciplined by a ward Matron .Babies in nursery to give mothers a rest .Restricted visiting times , great food, selection hot drinks before bed.Oh the drinking chocolate and Ovaltine and Horlick .Nurses to help breast feeding and bathing of baby .We had a good rest , we made friends .We took it all for granted and wanted to go home quickly to be with partners .Could not appreciate how special a sanctuary it was.Never cared for or loved as much by strangers .Hardly used now all go home after six hours if can and most of the wards have become general medicine .If only we had realised the beauty of what we were given.Love Mary x
Jun 2018 · 139
Let’s Play
Mary Gay Kearns Jun 2018
Let’s play dear brother
As we never did before
But with an understanding
Together once more.

Out in the garden
Climbing the trees
Drawing and painting
Just you and me .

Love Mary x
Jun 2018 · 183
Florence and the boat.
Mary Gay Kearns Jun 2018
I see you tot, you wobble a lot
On balancing legs along the edge
Holding chains you do it again
And kiss curls brush your face.

Love Grandma Mary x
Jun 2018 · 497
Insignias
Mary Gay Kearns Jun 2018
‘I’ve got to go’, the trees said
Twisting their trunks away
I have to get on with fluttering
The birds will need my sway.

‘I must start running’, said river
My banks are dusty and brown
The fishes are waiting for food
Must feed them or they will drown.

‘I will get on’, said the seagulls
Flying over the South-West Coast
There is food floating on the water
And something I see in that boat.

Mr bear looked at his watch
It was nearly half- past four
Said ‘I am really sorry for you’,
But simply can’t take anymore’.

Love Anonomous x
Jun 2018 · 107
Falstaff .
Mary Gay Kearns Jun 2018
At some point
One realises
It has always been
About someone else.


Love Shakespeare
Jun 2018 · 94
Circles of light.
Mary Gay Kearns Jun 2018
She lost her son did my friend Pam
Took her with him in his arms
His possessions in the garden shed
His words and gestures in her head.

Met her often we’d talk of him
How handsome the boy, clever within
She spent her days collecting litter
Bits of silver paper from the gutter.

Went to Art school to sooth her pain
Painted the same picture over again
Found in an image reflected in glass
That boy, her life, in circles of light.

For Pam and Stephen.
Love Mary x
Jun 2018 · 278
Still.
Mary Gay Kearns Jun 2018
Blow hollyhocks blow
Send shivers down
Those hairy spines
Quiver in the sunshine.

Welcome the busy bees
The wayside walkers
In the scarlet breeze
While you stand still.

Love Mary x
Jun 2018 · 98
Mary Rose
Mary Gay Kearns Jun 2018
Mary Rose I loved you
Such a magical shop
Up the stairs of wonder
Residing at the top.

Love Mary x
Jun 2018 · 192
Days’ End
Mary Gay Kearns Jun 2018
The shephard never came to me
He left me in the lurch
Half eaten by cannibalism
Scrabbling in the dirt.

The paintwork has slipped
The door frame fallen
And teachings, a betrayal
For love is forsaken.

Love Mary **
Jun 2018 · 194
The future and beyond.
Mary Gay Kearns Jun 2018
Buttercups and Daisies
Now polluted flowers
Coming in the Springtime
In concrete made towers
While the trees are leafless
Now diseased and bare
Buttercups and Daisies
Don’t come up much here.

Love Mary x
Jun 2018 · 116
Those
Mary Gay Kearns Jun 2018
I sleep with all those disappointed
Who failed in fighting for truth
A funeral, a purging hurricane
My body a casket of flowers.

Love Mary x
Jun 2018 · 354
Scratch
Mary Gay Kearns Jun 2018
With bruise I uplift all my sorrow
On scratch and pain now leaching out
And hurt so long no longer feel
Where tenderness caresses bone.

Love Mary x
Jun 2018 · 123
Lose.
Mary Gay Kearns Jun 2018
Everything I lose,
Each day a little surprise,
A hoped for beauty,
Falls away,
And I am in tatters
Torn and scraped
Beside those
Ever ending
Chains.


Love Mary ***
Jun 2018 · 227
Autumn half-term
Mary Gay Kearns Jun 2018
They dipped in Serpentine with shoes
The leaves of Autumn sail side up
And children, four, remember now
In pleasure, wind swept, hair filled days.

Love Mary xxxx
Jun 2018 · 193
White Syringa
Mary Gay Kearns Jun 2018
White Syringa’s fragrance gently sweet
A cup of tea and painted orange bench
With Fluff, a tabby cat, your gardening shoes
Stay longer, mother mine, how I love you.

Love Mary
Jun 2018 · 931
King
Mary Gay Kearns Jun 2018
I saw you fill the park
Tall and grey
Like Gandalf
A book of spells to hand
And cloaked against the rain.

Long strides across grass
Pink shirted king
A circular crown
Shoes trodden down
Waiting for the Wedding to end.

Love Mary for Roger ***
Mary Gay Kearns Jun 2018
I took the left path where hydrangeas grew and sleepy primroses under woods, edged shady trees.
The empty stream ran quietly dry
With grass cuttings piling high.
If one peeped, one would find tiny creatures
To cast a sparkle here and there, a delight.
So on tip-toe, with sandels bent
Up high I reached to take
The plastic fairy as she twirled a pirouette
In a theatre made by chance.
Reflected in a silver mirror intwinned with ivy branch
A mottled foal tends his dreams and Chrismas robin chirps.

My brother took the right hand path where the trees grew fruit
Ripe berries from the gooseberry bush bulged their prickles.
Dangling from hawthorn now a cowboy with a hat
Looking for his fellow Indian with the yellow back sack.
Sheep gather in a hollow, dark, protected from the sun
And Mr toad, now lost of paint, has turned a bit glum.

And so we leave our woodland friends and travel up the *****
Winding round the rose bed and goldfish where they float.
Then up we climb, the middle route, to jump the pruned clipped
Hedge.
The lawn divided in two halves, a contemporary taste.

Now we're nearly at that place where if one was to turn
Could see down across the land
To the sea and sand.
Of all the beauties that I've known
Nothing beats this Island home.

Love Mary x




My grandfather’s retirement bungalow was in Totland Isle of Wight.
It was named Innisfail meaning ‘Isle of Ireland’.
Behind, the garden led down to magical and delightful to children who came as visitors. My grandfather would prepare this woodland with some suitable surprises.
The garden and woodland deserved its own name and in retrospect
Is now named ‘Innislandia’ to suggest a separate, mysterious land.
Beyond the real world.
In the poem A Country Lane on page 8 the latched gate is the back gate to my grandparent’s garden and bungalow in Totland as above.
John Garbutt wrote the following piece on the meaning of the name 'Innisfail'.

My belief that the place-name came from Scotland was abandoned
on finding the gaelic origins of the name.
‘Inis’ or ‘Innis' mean ‘island’, while ‘fail’ is the word for
Ireland itself. ‘Innisfail’ means Ireland. But not just
geographically: the Ireland of tradition, customs, legends
and folk music, the Ireland of belonging.
So the explanation why the Irish ‘Innisfail’ was adopted as the name
of a town in Alberta, Canada, and a town in Australia,
can only be that migrants took the name, well  over a century ago
to their new homelands, though present-day Canadians
and Australians won’t have that same feeling about it.

------------------------------------------------------------­---------
The bungalow was designed by John Westbrook, who was an architect, as a wedding present for his father and Gwen Westbrook.
I do believe he also designed the very large and beautiful gardens.
It is there still on the Alan Bay Road. Love Mary xxxx
Jun 2018 · 193
You.
Mary Gay Kearns Jun 2018
I greet your tenderest hands as one
Then time had beated out your name
And so with heart my hands did know
Two rings of gold this day behold.


Love Mary xxxx
Jun 2018 · 197
Dressing my baby.
Mary Gay Kearns Jun 2018
I dressed  you daughter in smock cloth
It sewn with mother’s loving touch
A blue check white embroidered dots
And buttons, sashed will fasten back.
Jun 2018 · 147
It’s never too late.
Mary Gay Kearns Jun 2018
I gave up writing letters when the frost set in
Having tied each bunch with coloured ribbon
So those clearing out could identify the writer
Before packing into bags for their final home.

Mother’s letters were always playful with a lot of
Funny drawings and a multitude of little sayings
There was often a five pound note for the children
And lots of kisses and hugs to each and everyone .

They came regular at holiday times when distant
Kept us apart and she and I felt unexpectedly sad
For we lived like each other, inside tins and things
Buttons and bows, flower pots, coffee-sponge cake.

I have her letters in drawers, inside books and cards
I have her glasses and blue case, last pair of shoes
A scarf where there remains the scents of The Island
The beach and sea, salty air and a jar of cold cream.

Love Mary to her mum xxxx
Mary Gay Kearns Jun 2018
Here comes Margaret, it is nearly four
Takes her all day, to get out of doors
Makes it to the park
A few hundred yards
And back again, slowly, within the hour.

As she returns, Roger sets off
Carrying a note book
And wearing a cagoule mac
A five mile walk, twice a day
And factual writing recording his stay.

Wind direction, southerly, position of the sun
Underfoot weather conditions
A man on the run
Ducks on the pond, birds in the trees
How wonderful it is and all free.


Mary has a black car and rarely walks
Since losing her husband she rarely talks
The pavements are a sadness
Carrying memories of happy times
Walking together on Sunday afternoons.


Pat, goes gently, her knees are bad
Many operations has got her this far
Stoic disposition she loves the flowers
Looks at the gardens for many an hour.

Walkers of the roadway, kindly, unite
Giving to each other love and insight.


Love Mary x
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