Sunday, March 27, 2016

Easter Sunday 2016

28th March 2019

It has just occurred to me that daddy died on Easter Monday (this day three years ago)

The day before I had posted a Happy Easter message
It doesn't get any easier. I still miss him terribly - probably more now.
27th March 2016
Easter Sunday

Happy Easter morning to you all.
I'll catch up with more words later. For now , off to celebrate Easter , first with Mass and then with a daughter, son in law and lots of lovely grandchildren , whom I can't wait to see. 
Hope you are having a brilliant holiday. 
And remember:
Love is the answer...

Saturday, March 26, 2016

Friday, March 25, 2016

Good Friday

25th March 2016

Morning everyone.

Doing the "Walk of Witness" this morning with Churches Together in our town, the figure of Simon of Cyrene struck me a little more deeply than before. He was minding his own business , probably wondering , as he'd just come in from the country , what all the fuss was about, when he was man handled and given the task of helping Jesus carry the cross. Of course, being in an occupied country, you didn't argue when a soldier gave an order, so he had no choice but to comply.

From those thoughts I've just written three acrostics around the theme of Good Friday:

Good Friday with Simon

Grabbing my arm, causing surprise, the soldier drags me
Over to where He has fallen, under wood - heavy, crushing,
Onto the ground, into the dirt, blood drips, while his lips
Don't utter a word - and the frenzied mob jeers.

From shattered shoulders I ease the cross away - He stands
Right there in front of me - eyes meeting, locking.
I look at Him - wretched, sore, in pain -and I
Decide, you know what, you don't deserve this torment
And for my part, I'll help as much as I can
Yes, although inconvenient, I will assist this man

Good Friday - Onlooker

Getting jostled , near the back , it's difficult to see what's happening
On the road up ahead. It looks like the soldiers
Ordered some man to help the man named Jesus to carry His cross.
Doesn't pay to get to close, you think.

From this distance it's hard to know what's
Really going on. You can be a spectator without
Intervening in the proceedings, just observing the
Deliberations as if they are a show, a performance - indifferent to
Any truth that close contact might show you . You, showing no compassion,
You can go home and have  your tea and tell tales about what you saw.

Gaping wounds and sores, Lord, blood
On your body, nails through your hands,
On your head a crown of thorns,
Deeming you to be a king

From up there looking down on us, you
Reach to the depths of our hearts and we know
In a clearer way now the love you have for us, that
Deep love that holds nothing back and is
Always ready to give everything for us, who are indifernt, unloving
Yet, Lord, we look up at you and want our hearts to change.

Thursday, March 24, 2016

Day out in London

On Tuesday we went, my husband and I , to London for the day. We both had meetings in the evening, so went up together to enjoy a few hours mooching. We had been promising ourselves an outing together for a while. We didn't give ourselves a necessary itinerary being more than happy to decide as we went along what we might do next. For me this was just what I needed and finding a bench while strolling  through St James' Park was an absolute delight. 
As I sat drinking in the atmosphere, the warmth of the sun caressing my tired bones, I just melted into the present moment and relaxed. Not what you expect when in the big city. It felt like the official first day of spring bringing up a collage of memories of other days like this in the past. The queen's swans, spotted through the blossom heavy trees, glided  majestically on the water in front of Buckingham Palace looking for all the world like proud owners of their home. 
It was so interesting to hear the many different tongues, chattering like seagulls, as so many nations of the world passed us by, all busy with their plan for the day. We felt like onlookers , not really part of the play, just viewing from outside. 
Eventually we walked off , but before leaving the Park I spied a Heron brazenly lunching on the picnic food that small groups of people, seated on the grass, were happily throwing his way. I was fascinated by the fact that he was going so close to them that I thought I'd take a photo of him. Hurriedly, because I thought time might be against me, I got my phone working on camera mode, which , as any one of my children will tell you is a miracle in itself, and took a couple of pictures. He didn't move. So I went in closer and took a few more. He didn't seem at all bothered, so I thought I would get as close as I could and when it was too close for him and he took to flight I would get a great picture of him taking off. But before that could happen I took flight after noticing his knfe like beak that just might pose a threat to my own  safety/life. I laughed at his audacity and my own cowardice. That's put paid to my dream of being a "Wild Photographer"  - the only wild now will be the grandchildren. Wild enough for anyone you might be thinking. Mmmm...

The next pleasant surprise was going to the exhibition at The Mall Galleries, where, because Peter is a member, we got in free. We spent a long while looking at the artwork, most of which didn't impress me a great deal. I did think that a lot of Peter's work is better than quite a bit of what we saw. There were a couple of pieces that really moved me though , one of which was this one of a mother and baby ( refugees). Beautifully done, it spoke a timeless message of reality to me, reaching in to my heart . I absolutely loved it.

From the Mall Galleries we walked to Trafalgar Square and "no," I said "I don't want to go into another gallery( we were standing in front of the National Gallery), not today" . So we walked into Leicester Square , where, unknown to us they were preparing for the premierre of Batman v's Superman or some such nonsense.
There was plenty of activity , with the red carpet and everything.

By this time we were a bit hungry and for once I hadn't brought lunch with me, so what to do. Not sighting any Kentucky Fried chicken outlet, my favourite "safe choice" ( you know how much, and it's not usually a lot, that you're going to spend) and also wanting really to be a bit more daring I looked around for another bargain sign , which turned out to be the Angus Steak House at the top of the square. Their lunch offer was reasonable :
Smoked chicken on a bed of salad which included walnuts (which made me jealous, momentarily) for Peter,
Loin pork chop topped with Mediterranean veg all on a base of mashed potato for me,
And a pot of tea each - such good value - two and a half cups per pot.
And all for just £20. I thought that was a great deal for lunch in the city.
The staff were brilliant too, making jokes and bantering with us. 
We really enjoyed it and promised ourselves we'd do it again soon.

Our next meandering took us to another place I'd not been before, China Town. I closed my eyes, imagining I was in a far off place, scents and aromas helping with the dream. What an amazing delight to the senses. Then , looking around and seeing all the culture of China on display to feast the eyes. The few pictures here do not do justice at all to the pleasure I found in soaking up all the sights, sounds, and smells , touching a colourful  kingdom tasting delicious adventures. It reminded me of my time in China with my mum and sisters.  I loved it all and I will be back. 

We both went on from there to our meetings and met at eight thirty , exhuasted, but happy ,at Victoria to take the train home to Kent. 

Monday, March 21, 2016


21st March

Happy World Poetry Day  folks


Every morning a new arrival waits
At the edge of silence,
Dressed for the dance of inner drama,
They each in their turn, give their testimony,
Each in their turn, take you on a journey,
To unheard of places,
Places where only the present is,
And you can be, but only for that moment.

Tuesday, March 15, 2016


15th March 2016

New life flows like a river...

Again I've had to change my bio as we have just had our 21st grandchild. Born on Friday, 11th March, his name is Theo and he is gorgeous. You'd think that after so many children and grandchildren the news of another addition would be a tad boring. But, no, on the contrary, we were so excited that we raced up  from Kent to Buckinghamshire to welcome him personally into this fabulous world of ours.

What will the world be like for him as he grows into  the person that he was meant to be.
Not one , surely that a lot of us oldies will recognise.  But that's all to the good . It will be his world not ours.
Unfortunately , we probably won't be able to be part of the great adventure of  all of his days. But we wish him great happiness in all his quests.
Welcome to you, Theo James Walker. Enjoy...

Wednesday, March 9, 2016

Thread / Winter 2020

10th Feb 2020

A couple of pieces from 2016 . I've altered them slightly.

Spent some lovely time yesterday playing with the grandchildren. We played fast moving, competitive card game which I found I was way too slow at. Oh well ... Thoroughly enjoyed it though. It made me think how good it is too play.

Hold on to that thread,
Let it hang  from those past bones
A day of purpose
Where every movement has its reason,
The growing flower its timely season,
Where what has been
Has come to this,
And this is the softness of the 
Song of delight.
Hold on to that thread,
Though not too tightly
For each second signifies the next,
Each gossamer strand shall be broken,
Left behind 
To free the mind

That crisp morning:
The grass wearing a light cover
 as of icing sugar,
Icy pond still - reflecting 
The chill,
Of my nose.
And you with your story,
Made my bones shiver.
How to unthink,
From memory.
How to box in,
How to warm through ,
the blue.

Wednesday, March 2, 2016


2nd March 2016


Re-reading  my poem, The Football Game, made me think about war and how we are so conditioned to accept that between people there will be fights.
You only have to think about siblings in any family . Some might be more peaceful than others but, in my experience most children bicker and argue. Often there is no serious intent and most episodes end moments later, in the culprits playing together like best buddies. And , in the meantime, if you have tried to interfere and part the aggressors, they are likely to unite and turn on you.
And it's difficult in life  to have any relationship that is always agreeable and content, whether it's with a spouse, other family members , friends , work colleagues , etc etc .
And isn't it true that most of us like to watch films, dramas and documentaries that have conflict and violence/killing as the main content. The same with our reading matter... Why??
Well, peaceful, loving lives are a bit boring and don't have much drama about them, do they?
But should we be so comfortable with the idea of killing other people, even in the case of " a just war" , whatever that really means .

Just a bit of rambling ...

What do you think ???

 Day 19:  19th April, 19th poem

AS it's FA cup semi-final weekend I thought I'd  ponder on a famous football game of the past.

The Football Game

There was a lull in firing, acrid, bullet-mist - still floating.
Mud carpeted with thin evening frost,
And - carried sweetly on the air -bringing tears to weary men-
Singing- "Silent Night."
Bodies rise above trenches, stretch, hesitant ...nudge each other,
Slowly... warily... unbelieving- one step...then another -
Draw closer, sing in unison, meet in the middle,
  "No man's land"
A ball, a game, a goal - or two, tentative camaraderie,
On sidelines two soldiers - opposing camps- smoke,
Share stories - wives, children, hobbies -
Walk together, relax in comfortable ditch,
Moments of quiet remembering - warm now
They drift into sleep-
Wake to the din of gunfire, the morning sky hidden behind
Smokescreen of war resuming.
German stands,  takes a look - bang....
Shot down by his own, he falls , blood sprays like a garden sprinkler
English breathes tepid, red death -  his "friend"  crushes him in heavy embrace
Gently he places him by his side and prays, and prays,
Tears flow free , mix with life juice - there he waits.
 Night comes, he says goodbye, creeps back to camp ,
Wipes sleeve across eyes answers his sergeant,
"German soldier got shot, fell on me, that's all."

Tuesday, March 1, 2016

Be Present - Kate's blog

It is a year later . I'd like to share with you my daughter's blog:


Especially for mums...

1st March 2016

Can't believe the blog has had nearly 14000 visits... Wow...

Looking back at this poem, Acting The Story,  from the 18th April when I was doing the poem a day challenge, I smiled as I remembered working with my friend Trish at the Children's Literary Festival in Herne Bay ( the first one, hopefully not the last)
The children had a great deal of fun as they were taken into new adventures through stories that were already well known to them. They were the main protagonists in the adventures. Such a good time...
But I'm finding it difficult to think about a response to the poem.

Be Present

The story of life is acted out at the dawn of each new day,
We plan and plot what we'll do, where we'll go, what we'll say.
Then the turn of events don't match with our story
We're faced with lots of change, another script for our way.

But don't get confused, disheartened, try not to be perturbed ,
Live this time in the present moment, savour it, don't get disurbed.
For there's nothing to be done about what's gone,
And as we've seen what is  to come is quite often curbed.

So be present to what there is of you in the moment that is now,
If you take care to notice it enough it will give you a great big WOW.

OK so it's
Day 18: 18th April, 18th poem  -

Acting The Story

Room set up ,
Hat - ready,
Clammy hands fumble with words -
 No more time to check,
Props in four piles,
Anticipating adventure.
Two wait,
Wait and chat,
Chit chat,
Say nothing
Open the window,
Wait ,
Wait - for...
They will come,
They will...
Clock time-sixth glance,
Two minutes...
And then, 
Seeing  double ,
Checked shirts slowly creep in,
Twins - boys
Next - sisters -walking tight as one,
Hand gripping hand
For safety,
The younger -- fair,
The older dark.
They came,
The storyteller looks for her hat,
Deep breath...
Now we begin..