When the water melted on the pond
The ducks slept in the green reeds
The moorhens, fluffy black, red beak
Kept close to their mother for warmth.

We hope for the bulbs to shoot bright
Knocking the world with lightening
The colour of sunshine in a paintbox
And all will be well for another year.

Love Mary xxxx

The lank winter stretched for days
Along the lanes and on hedge tops
Yet buds appear on new rose stems
Promising leaves for this year now.

If I had a kindling of the loves flame
It would for the ‘Bill Viola’ exhibition,
The mother holding her dead child
Crucified through misunderstanding.

Never let lack of empathy guide you
Or fill a heart weighed down, hurting
For the huntsman finds that cruelty
And wraps it in words of forgiveness.

Love Mary ***

It may take years for poetry to be acknowledged but when it is
Great truths unfolded that leave one tremulous with beauty and
Awareness so great that the world turns in disbelief.
Somehow there are no other legistrators of the truth for all are self
Selfinterested and infested.
So dear poets write for humanity that your words touch those servants of time.
Changing understanding and open minds
To the reality of nature’s innocence and the wickedness of history and humankind.



Love Mary xxxxx

On high ground through narrow entrance
The allotments opened doors to pickers
Of fruits that of which freedom allowed
Bushes dotted in the sunlight, touchingly,
Where the wasps and flies buzzed around
And the excited voices of children called
To harvest the ripe blackberry as it dropped
I loved my mother’s blackberry and apple
Pie with top of the milk to soften the pastry
With all that love.

Love Mary xxxx

Those pink blackberries hard as stone
The taste of bitterness and hairy stalk
The  sort of colour made with a mixture
In plastic bag catching the end of season
One more drip of divine wine to taking
The bushes continue their few bright tips
And picking hurts the fingers till sorely
It is Autumn stocking in its cold offering
In the evening when people return home
We were special in our togetherness.

Love Mary ***

The coppice was full of bird songs
And daffodils so fair
But I can no longer see them
For my eyes are dim with dispair.

Could not reach the truth
It was taken without heart
Lies broken somewhere
Stuck in a conjuror’s throat.

Mary ***

Falling sun’s rays
Roof tops crisp
Triangles with chimney pots
Plum cherry blossom white
To match my daughter’s rose.

Love Mummy **

The grass cut winter short
Fog frozen on the briar
Parables use to be told
In the fields far below.

Taking the long way round
As coldness turned to frost
Find that our hearts do melt
As a whistling stirs the throat.

Love Mary ***

Watford to Euston a twenty minute slot
Passing from countryside to brick block
Passed all the bridges and graffiti on walls
Passed the art that turn heads if they will.

Sometimes a stopping of the short train
Ten minutes to wait then hasty again
Down through the outer tunnels, fine
Into Euston platform just on time.

Love Mary ***

I found you on a train
Sitting opposite me
Face to face we were
So you could see me.

I had my best coat on
Leather M@S brown
Things in the pockets
Buttons to turn around.

When we got off
The sun was in the sky
Went to see the Alabasters
They were a surprise.

Love Mary **

Two leaves in a puddle of rainwater
On the steps of the Maplin Gallery;
Photographs of ****** disarmed
Floating in a time of experiment
These two images combine
To ask questions of how art
shows the way we lived in the
1990s.

Love Mary xxxxx

Inside the church garden of St Mary’s
We ate our egg and cheese sandwich
A child came out dressed as an angel
Clothed in white with a frown
The boy cried because he was not Mary
Great droplets of tears from black globes
And there they stood the play not begun
My two lollipop friends
The photograph now in my room.


Love Grandma Xxxxx

My heart grows in gardens
Spread out the land
Roses magnificient
Some climbing some stand
The roses are David Austin
Cupped shaped layers of flounce
To touch they do drop
Becoming sailing craft.
The gardens are my home
Petals covering the ground
And my heart lives there
Foverver grateful for a hand.


Love Mary  xxxx

Floaty in your flowery dress
Its layered skirts spill out
And climb you do
The wooden slide
Under the ancient tree.

Your feet do add a child’s dance
Strapped sandals in the sun
And all the while your sister plays
Beating her own trunk song
A dream time for the young.

Love Grandma Mary  x

Oh so white you helliborus
And leaves of grassy green
Spreading stems of delight
And snowy open wings.

Love Mary ***

Slowly the currents gather
bringing me near to blue
Higher I fly and further I go
To a place where others have gone
In sadness and joy the beginning and the end
A swathe of grass, a cut of corn
A child in a meadow
Playing a tune
The tree tops reach to the sun.
All this has been for me to see
And now it is time to say farewell
And to travel lightly along.


Travel along.

Love Mary xxxx

We met through a latched gate
down a straight concrete path
With flowers and grass on either side
To a white cottage with a
Thick thatched roof.
To the right of the front door
Was a climbing, yellow,’ Chelsea’ rose.

The garden was an orchard of tenderness with
Five elderly leaning apple trees bearing fruit.
And David Austin roses in a variety of colours
Many wild and cultivated flowers grew and plentiful
Of bird song.

Roger and I sat together at a small
Table and chairs
And were given a delightful meal
Of chicken and vegetables
Followed by ice cream and mixed fruit salad
After resting with cups of tea
I wandered round the garden to see all the
Beauty of this wilderness and a boat in a large
Rather dilapidated shed
Later to be rebuild into a fine garage of
Original Suffolk stone and two wooden doors.

Our time together was very precious to me.
Filling in much that I had heard about, but
Never encountered, from a very dear relative.

In the afternoon we went into Bury St Edmunds central
To see the Cathedral, Abbey Gardens, with resplendent
Flower beds frequently replenished in an abudance of colourful changes and the antiquated book shops.
The day was concluded with strawberries and cream in the
Park sitting on a bench in the sun.

We had a long journey back to Watford.
I never forget this day so unusual was it
Made by my friend.

Love Mary xxxx

The boat was moored
In a place in Norfolk
When Summer came
It was renovated
Ready as were the broads
For the sunny season
And trips taking places
Quietly,quaintly.

A favourite spot  
To visit and find surprises
A boat of singular, solidarity
Splendouredly
Painted in the colour
Of a great philosophy.

Love Mary ***

Love Mary ***

Take from this
All that you want
Do not struggle or stride
Lay down the relics of us
Let you be guided by time
Back to peace and possibilities.

Love Mummy
***

The cave paintings show us
Art and imagination
Are essential to our being to our health.
To our ability to empathise with others
To be able to show joy in the world around us.
Without our imagination being used we
Create a world of violence , inhumanity
And cruelty.
Just the way it is going today .
Bring back art in schools
For the freedom of our people.

Love Mary ***

Thank you Anthony Gormley
For your programme .

Love Mary ***

Silver she was that tiny star
Far up in the heavens
Silver tips upon her shoes
And brighter by far
Through all the hours
A night-light in the blue.

Love Mary ***

Very naturally one believes that it is reason
Not emotion that rules the world.
But the truth is it is emotion
That spins ones days
Catapults one out of complacency
To produce and act in
Extraordinary ways.

Love Mary **

Where do we meet ?
Can it be said
You have the same words
In your head
Or ideas reframed.
Do your eyes drop tears
And your hands reach out
To touch the soil
Do we ever meet
Different voices in the wind.

Love Mary ***

The tree stood for thousands of years
Its evolutionary path an unimaginable
Journey
Nothing disturbed either its pattern
Nor days;
A new virus evolved blowing its way
Eating its bark and destroying its leaves
Its pattern broken
Took fastly and down it fell
Leaving all that had passed
Behind;
Only rings and fossils
Tell of its life’s secrets
Crustationes carried in the wood.

Love Mary ***

We are but patterns
Made at a certain point
Our love and desires
Are patterns too
No different than
The leaves on a rose stem
Or spirals on a shell
When a pattern is disrupted
The organism dies.
But what is created by love
And empathy remains
Like poetry, music, painting
And literature to be experienced
As patterns
Love remains in the memory
Of those we loved
It is simple really.

Love Mary xxxx

Waiting out with feet in the sea
The little boy called Charlie and me
He wore red and I wore green
Love to swim in the spangly sea.

The sky blew over a cobble stone
Dropped some raindrops that afternoon
It was very dippy in the weeds
But fun was had by Charlie and me.

Love Mary **

The way opened out
And to get through
A bend was needed
Leaning against twig.

So thoughts gathered
Head strong
Across the empty ditch
The company leaped.

The other side was a purple haze
Drifting about above woods
The tops of the trees twittered
And twinkled and fluttered.

The company entered the woods
Lifting lightly their dress
Surrounded were they by
Bird song and flowers
At their feet.

Love Mary ***

Small one, did you catch the ‘hello’ running
Between the Sycamore trees
And catch a winged seed head
As it floated down to breathe.

For the table is laid for supper
Garnished with all you gave
And I will catch you running
Running on quite brave.

Love Mary ***

What was it I found in those words
Spoken with such grace
Given under the lavender
And behind a privet hedge.

Was it that knowledge is nothing
And kindness flows down a path
And roses grow round doorways
And the truth lasts and lasts.

Love Mary ***

Somewhere out in the countryside
Two roses are waiting to bloom
To put out their green leaves
On bright new stems.

Later as Summer warms flower heads
Sumptuous colour will spread and spread
And make a scented spectacle
Better by far they have their hour.

Love Mary ***

Coming to my door
In coat and hat
You bring me food
And this and that.

We try so hard to find a smile
We talk a bit just for a while
I love you more than I can say
Stay with me darling
Till evening is still.

Love Mummy ***

Travelling with me were two friends
An elderly gentleman and She
They stretched out four hands
In a beautiful glance
And took me with them
On an unusual dance.

One full of snow and bluebell’s bulbs
The other carried words taken down
From his shelves
We shared the sunlight on a good day
And visions of loveliness to treasure
Always.

Love Mary ***

By a running stream I watched
As the sparrow pecked the stones
Feet gave a little splash
As the weeds gathered moss
On the half yellow dash.

Love Mary ***

I will meet you in the rays of light
At the edge of the outer most galaxy
And there we might recognise each other
in the cosmic dust
And in quietness love again.

Love Mary x

Wisdom is not born but grows
Harboured under great uncertainty
Found from a struggled life
Known at the end as beauty
The integrity of the soul’s
Last journey.

Love Mary ***

A brown, barren ploughed field
A flock of birds above
Scattered dots in a patch of blue
On the wind the monks’ voices
Echoed from past days
Worshipping at the simple chapel.

Love Mary ***

Little bird you gave me your world
In a piece of Christmas tinsel
From an abandoned pine tree
It showed how unnecessary
Are the human words.

Love Mary ***

The road lay like swansdown
under a light leaflet of snow
The corner a curvaceous cut
Stright towards the stars
Beauty bearing truth
Nature has its own.


Love Mary ***

I am going over the rainbow
Where the grass is green
And birds sing on roof tops
And all is brightly seen.

Love Mum xxxxxxx

The moon in a deep blue sky
Barest of Winter foliage
Two yellow beacons on the road
Lighting our way
And the evening is cold.

Love Mary ** ***

Optimism and pessimissism
A binary opposition
Unsuited to this world
Must change our way of thinking.

Use needs to be more particular
More sensitive
More refined
Find a better word kind.

Love Mary ***

The hurt came
Unknown to me
But I felt it
You gave it to me.

Love Mary xxxx

‘Stain upon the silence’, Samual Beckett said.
Have we all done this?
Thomas Hardy’s  poem
‘The Darkling thrush’.

Have I left my stain
Can you hear my call
‘In my poem ‘Even the Birds’?

Did I make it through
All those words and rhymes
To find something worth the saying?

Love Mary **’

Under the eye of love we swing
Tracking the pendulum’s arc
The chains keep one fixated
The metal links, that kind.

Love Mum ***

As soon as the light turns grey
I begin that same journey
Knowing the night will be unsettled
A repeated wakfulness
Winchingly carried out near to tears
For the exercise so carnivorous.

Love Mary xxxx

I can’t touch you for you are history
I can smell you, sense your hair
Lift your lipstick and cream jars
From an empty dressing table
In my imagination.

The tricel dress slips to the floor
Its colours bright as Aztec silk
The belt black plastic still looped
Holds what was your warm form
I scrunch the fabric to my face.

Love Mary ***

Standing against a collection of silver birch trees
In her cream padded coat and pink trousers
She stared away from her sister
Who tried to ride her bike.

A wistful child who loved to draw and create
The bike was a Christmas present
She was a little scared being light of frame
Compared to the heavy frame of the bike.

Love Mary xxxx

The cast iron cot frame stood in the garden
At the top left and held the relics of blue
Unleaded paint used to cover a girlish pink
The mattress disintegrated it contained plants
Mother’s cuttings from an extensive garden.

The girl now eleven and very thin
Sat in a homemade embroidered skirt
And played with her unbraided hair
Her feet neatly together like a doll
A teenage doll from The Pedigree range.

The beginning of ******* were forming
And insecurities and dissatisfaction open
That day in the sun with cousin Hilary
Two different specimens of womanhood
I only really knew her a short time .

Love Mary ***

She opened her Christmas presents in
The room with the lighted fur tree
One special from her grandma was Sasha
A very collectible and beautiful doll.

Having bought lots of clothes for Sasha,
Grandma had hoped the little girl
Would have been given them, all,
To play with on Christmas Day.

But this never happened
The box not utilised
A few unmatched given
Grandma cried at her gift.

Being so unconsidered.

Love Mary ***

The bungalow stood empty after he died
Garden shoes hugged the porch step
The glass panelled front door showing
Pale translucent echoes of familiarity
Through its six oblong windows.

I was never allowed to visit
After the day of the funeral
Never able to bounce on the
Cream candlewick double bed
Which had been home.

Or to collect cuttings from the
Dilapidated garden, just a rose
Or two would do to recall a day
Of Summer and deckchairs
Tea and cakes eaten with care.

I was never allowed to embrace
Years of happy holidays shared
Breath in the beauty of memory
Deep down where flowers grow
Never allowed another Spring.

Love Mary xxxxx