Can’t please everybody

I’m writing this straight on the template to save time. The e mail that bounced back from my sister had a sad emoticon and a direct statement “You’re right I don’t like it” referring to yesterday’s poem. So here’s one I know she likes and a new one written with her in mind.

I wrote this after Lynne’s visit here following the death of my husband. I wonder if the memory is vivid because I wrote about it or if it would have remained etched. what I do know is that Issy is the most evocative perfume (and the most expensive!) . I keep an empty bottle on my bedside table simply because it reminds me of Lynne




we stand face to face on the threshold in winter

your Clinique cheek touches mine

dry not so lined

Issy circles our communion like incense

talk soon you say

then reach out

cuddling me three and six again

sun ice cream grease

salt sweet smells

sing of our childhood coasts






through my body held by you



holding us

the sky traces promises

direction and distance

like childhood kisses

scrawled on azure paper


me and my jet set sister


you grab bargains in terminal 4

I seize and cling to you

our cheeks touch the last time

we hug

and I’m all grown up again

by the time you leave



Mumbles moment


I’m surrounded by the llans of childhood







Joe’s vanilla ice cream and polysyllabic mouthfuls of


Swansea Bay is as calm as a lake

around the headland

the apple still blushes next to the lighthouse

the tides at Caswell roll gently like a lullaby

dogs worry the foam while on the beach

hardy children paddle or play football

beneath winter sun

jet trails criss-cross the sky

netting me

as if this world

my world

held its breath

in the eye of the storm



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