Sea sings aloud a constant song
of rushing gravel all night long.
As waves curl inward to the land
the moon reveals a foaming band
that stretches far along the shore,
then ocean claims it back once more.
Such restless movement, never still,
salt spray upon my window sill,
while in my dreams there comes a day
when surging tides drag me away,
to join for all eternity
those whispered secrets of the sea.

Letting Go

This cold, cold earth
I heard your voice
you kissed my face
then all was gone
without a trace
in cold, cold earth

This hard, hard ground
no need for sight
for those who lie
in this dark night
not to see again
the sun, the light
in hard, hard ground

Yet comes this sound
there is a sigh
like wind in trees
or the faintest cry
of a flock of birds
in a cloudless sky
yet comes this sound

Away I fly


our life with cats

cats for life and our life with cats
they’ve come to us in many hats
each different and yet just the same
personalities in all but name
from moggies to fine Tonkinese
they’ve loved us but done as they please
demanding food at dead of night
or shouting ’bout some fall or fight
amused us with their funny ways
their antics made us laugh for days
they’ve brought us gifts that weren’t quite nice
like lizards legs or headless mice
they’ve talked to us in their cat speak
had endless fun with hide and seek
they’ve rubbed and purred to show they care
clawed at the rugs and scratched the chair
curled up on laps with eyes of love
just daring us to make a move
we’ve loved them ’til their day was done
and miss them each and every one


My grandad was a lovely man
and I will tell you all I can
He wore a watch upon his vest
I’d hear it ticking on his chest
He’d mend my dolls if they got sick
and help me build things brick by brick
and hide my pudding as a trick

He wasn’t tall and he was stout
It’s true I never heard him shout
but he loved to sing a silly song
and teach me how to sing along
and show me how to plait some string
or find a pond with tadpoles in
or push me higher on a swing

I did not like his moustache bristles
which pricked and felt to me like thistles
‘Give Gramps a little kiss he’d say’
But I would turn my head away
It must have made his poor heart sore
but I was only three or four
He died before I grew much more

Oh Grandad, what I’d give today
to hug and kiss you come what may

Grenfell – the betrayal

where escape routes were none
where there was nowhere to run
where the flames lit the sky
where they prayed not to die

how they screamed while we cried
how come so many died
how come nowhere to turn
how come ‘jump or you’ll burn’

what a loss for those living
what they feel – unforgiving
what horrors they saw
what hell can hurt more

who fought against flames
who’s still searching for names
who still digs where fire laid them
who was it betrayed them

why were people not heard
when they passed on the word
where those dangers might lie
– who turned a blind eye?


image is courtesy of the Daily Mail