woman

I need a new blog.

stasis

its not that I have remained unmoved

concealed within the chest chaos and unrest

rpeated patterns of inconsoalble grief swamp out the lightness of my being
i have wllowed
beneath this blanket of silence too long
now
searching for originality

wonder why I'm still trying to impress

I must embrace freedom

before its all too late and
rocks of time dash my dreams

so much consolation

please do not let me go unhindered
fetter me with criticism or with praise

I've beeen squandering my song.

Hardly morning pages,
undawned the day
as velvet night rests beyond the window
which floods my room with light

hardly been here, well here yes but not there
where are you
hold my hand and heart still

linger a little while

allow me and yourself a gentle smile

potter to your kitchen and flick your kettle switch
or turn up the gas or light the bonfire or camping gas beneath your billy can

and kick back relax

so much humanity

so much friendship declared
and love and listening
human
you and the others
here
with you and me

humankind
gentle
handsome
loving

comfort and joy

cursory acknowledgement
opportunity lost
minutes pass
forgive and forget
only you have nothing to say
reacting away from my solitary heart
time heals

joking apart
only fools are rushing
yearning and loathing are part of my clothing

i will let this pass
i will weather the storm
i will wordfully execute
my personal life rescue
nothing else better
to do?

How touched am I by the single flower

The sweet perfume of the perfect bloom

The head held high catching my eye

And I reach and pluck you to my lips

Embrace the beauty with a gentle kiss

Yes you are in your prime

When I bring you in

But you sang to my soul

You required my time

And my lips replied

Before I knew my mind

Hello Mother, I murmured as I carried you in

And now I have placed you

Where my gaze can rest

Whilst I care for my family

Ease the pain in my chest

Take the crease from my brow

And the weariness eases

The lingering love

in that one single flower

Fills my heart and my soul

With its ardent power.

Sun shines your warm smile and loving heart
The Ocean calls your adventurous spirit
Green fields lay the parchment for your vibrant history
I am on the train to Edinburgh
My mother, I am glad you are with me.

Anne Christine Clarke – nee Stening, lately of Manchester. Passed away peacefully at the Alexian Brothers Care home on 30th April 2008 aged 85 years and One day. Loving and much loved Mother and Grandmother.

Anne was born in Upminster in 1923. She dedicated her life to the service of God and to her family. Her work as a Christian Missionary took her across the world to China and to the Pacific. Along the way, she studied to become a Congregational Minister before marrying and adopting her 3 children. A gifted linguist, she read or spoke Chinese & Hebrew, she was also a highly respected Educationalist, specialising in Early Years Education and Residential Care.

Many people were touched by the gift of her love for God, both as a Companion of Brother Lawrence and as a Lay Preacher. She preached for several years across the Methodist churches in the Forest of Dean, Gloucestershire.

Anne will remain forever in our hearts.

who else am I
that I do not spend every waking hour of every day here
with my words and the melodies they play?

what sought of tuneless misery am I embracing
shifting meaningless from one foot to another
paying and displaying such a cursory respect
to my life
to being
A live.

exhibiting such a lack of discipline
waiting for who to say
it can begin?

as if I am only allowed to be
more than I currently am
when some-one other or something other
tells me
permits me

I have no chains
other than a shrinking mind
fearing rebuff
I seek decline.

How easily could I step and shake
this flimsy shackle of self doubt

I will try harder

I will succeed

that I know is all it takes
and thus the future
the me inside
is freed.

and I went from the table to my son's bed. Laid myself next to him and gazed at his strength whilst he slept. and then just breifly I saw my own unravelling. If he were to die? his grandmother's eyes turned blank and grey upward beneath chalk white lids and her aged body shook and trembled on a precipice called death. She rturned to us , to help us fade that memory? Then why did it linger with me and let my imagination touch it to my my son's sweet grace. I do not know.

capacious love,
not quite extinct
but tired , so tired

endlessly waiting to give itself
and it couod be you,

just ask.

chill
creaks at my shoulders
hardening rocks either side of my throat
my poor, sore throat.

and I am laughing at my weakness.

chill creeeping
along, longing lines
towrds my elbows
rested here
beside warm breasts

and I am close to weeping

children sleep
in beds, on floors and sofas
sparked around my house
and I am covering, worrying, loving

so afterall, who is mocking me?
only me?
lonely me?

and afterall, who is mocking me?

freeze and peel my skin
suffer the silent din
prepare to take control
contradict me.

and I am waiting to die?