He’s fine

A big day of small moments;

Pausing in a corridor to ask

‘How are you?’

The surprise of an honest,


Response made her pause

Before asking again.

A new man.

In a stairwell

Who shared also his truth.

A dark one,

But with shards of light

Peeking through.

The last man she asked



The first time;

But when again


‘How are you?’

His tale was sad.

Shared between


And goodbyes

Muttered to others passing

Heads nodding,

Hands raised.

Three men

Whose smiles had masked sadness

And whose words

Touched her deeply

In little

Big ways.

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The sounds of the lives of others

Drifted uneasily

Into her not quite quiet room.

Resting and restless

She heard of births, marriages and a lobster,

Not quite cooked.

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Her day was filled with love

Two hands in hers.

Those hands she’d nurtured

Every day for years.

And yet,

This day,

This happy day

Was hard;

A day so full of smiles

And some tears;

Because she was a mother,

Loved by two

..But she, a child too

Who loved another;

Felt this day

The absence of her mother.

Her heart was full

And empty.



Today she longed

For love

She had once had.

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Tulips and Daffodils

Tulips bother me.

They remind me of those girls at school

Slim and tall

Pretty and cool

The girl we wanted all to be.

Not me.

I’m older now,

But still…

Ashamed to be

A daffodil.

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Frosty Morning

Leaves dressed like princesses

Paved the winding path

Of her morning walk

And her wandering mind.

The intricate jewellery

Worn by Mother Nature

Made her cold heart warm

And her warm hands cold.

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Run to Live to Run

She ran because to stand still was to die.

He didn’t understand why this was so;

But he was not the one whose head said go.

She couldn’t stop her run to question why.

But could she answer, even if she tried?

If time stood still allowing words to flow;

Words painted in this moment, would they show

A truth her lips at other times denied?

She knew not why she ran, but knew she must,

And why she must, she questioned not at all.

She sucked in air, left footprints in the dust,

Pushed questions out of mind or she would stall.

She ran to live, or did she live to run?

Who knows, but no; she did not run for fun.

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Delicate petals

Catching light amongst darkness.

Grey skies overhead.

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Walk On?

Each step took her closer to oblivion.

Boldly she walked on;

Sure feet

On a path

Of broken glass

Scattering with each step.

The shards pierced her soles.

The pain eased her soul.

The aching


The ache to step once more

Once more


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Re Think

Looking forwards,

Never backwards,

Not quite liking what I see.

It’s important I remind myself,

Of who I want to be.

In honesty,

I’m getting there.

I’m doing pretty well.

But I’ve got a brain

To whom good things

Are rather hard to tell.

I zoom in on the negative;

I pick the good apart.

Seeing dirt around the edges

Not the clean and healthy heart.

But the first step is awareness,

Knowing that I think this way;

The next is slowly changing

How my thoughts wrap round each day.

The change will be a process

Incremental but profound;

And in time

The grip the dark thoughts have

Will slowly be unwound.

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The Day [Sonnet]

Translucent tears told tales opaque and old,
Of lives half-lived, half hidden – always scared.
The scars of stories, harsh and aged and cold
Ran deep beneath the skin of souls, lives shared.

To run was something each one could have done;
And yet, they paused transfixed throughout the years,
The pain distorting lives, forbidding fun;
Their lives, entangled, weaved with growing fears.

Not one had planned for life to be this way.;
If each could change the course of blood and sweat;
In heartbeats they’d have done so. Yes? And yet…
They pliéd, each united by that day:

A day that each forever wished undone.
A day that saw the many cast as one.

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