I love that you painted the Rolling Stones on your bedroom wall. Life size. In black. And that you danced with Rod Stewart. And that you climbed the Christmas tree in the market square with your best friend. And the story of how you first met dad down the folk club, and that you thought … Continue reading Mum,
Poems
A little bit of tokenism
Four daughters: "What would you like for your birthday, dad?" They are braced for the standard reply. Dad: "Just a little bit of tokenism, don't go mad." The four heave a collective sigh. When pressed to expound his thoughts, regarding possible birthday treats, the sisters are most underwhelmed, by dad's predictable: "socks and sweets." So … Continue reading A little bit of tokenism
Wedding words
Once upon a time, a lovely dark haired anaesthetist, of the German kind, asked a lady writer to embark on a top secret mission. A mission to combine words and joy and love. A secret literary quest, the findings of which were only to be revealed on the day of his wedding to his true … Continue reading Wedding words
Today I will write a poem
Today I will write a poem, I think, it feels like a good thing to do. But my head is lacking coherent words and my rollerball hasn't a clue. Inspiration is playing a rascally trick, an elaborate hide and seek. Despite me hunting my hardest, it turns out I'm lacking technique. I extend my search … Continue reading Today I will write a poem
Rodent requiem
'The music block is closed until further notice'. This stark proclamation shouts at me from an A4 piece of paper sellotaped to the outer door. I read the smaller print beneath the title for further explanation. Vandalism. I sigh. Guitars have been subjected to yogurt abuse and the carpet embedded with biscuits. The destructive properties … Continue reading Rodent requiem
She met him at the bus stop
She met him at the bus stop on a wet day in July. He smiled a smile that stopped her breath and made her insides sigh. She stood and stared and still he smiled, oblivious to his power. She could have stood and stared all day hour after hour. Lost inside his paperback he did … Continue reading She met him at the bus stop
Fruit cake
And so it came to pass that the 'going to work on Thursdays' era came to an end. The last day dawned perfectly - cold, grey, sombre. The familiar route was travelled, the familiar stairs climbed, the familiar work completed. Her final contractual obligation, fulfilled. The distinctive tones of her boss could be heard somewhere in … Continue reading Fruit cake
Resigned
Upon pressing 'send' with quivering finger and re-writing one's future with an email of resignation, a thorough hoovering of the stairs and landing on hands and knees, with special cordless attachment, was required. The dirt had been visible for some time, but the domestic goddess, with other fish to fry, had let the dust bunnies … Continue reading Resigned
And when you say that you love me
And when you say that you love me, do you mean for just this second? For this microscopic moment in time? Does it last for only as long as it takes to say those three words? Perhaps you love me at this minute, on this second Tuesday of the month - but come next Friday … Continue reading And when you say that you love me
Ridiculous
Her eldest son says that he doesn’t feel great. He doesn’t look great either. She doesn’t feel great. She certainly doesn’t look great. His is a mostly physical affliction, with a bit of spellings and times table trauma thrown in. Hers is mostly mental, with a tinge of over-emotional induced headache sprinkled about. The two … Continue reading Ridiculous
