On a sunny day waiting for
The answer
About costs
A husband with cheque book
Looked out of the window
Of the reception area
Tha attendant looked out of the window
At this woman
Dancing,
Dancing along a low wall edging,
" Look at that woman,  is she drunk ?", he said.
"That is my wife"
Returned my husband's voice,
" She just has a playful personality."


Love Mary **

The door was ajar
I stood at the front
Screaming into the night air
Silence betrayed me.

My mother's voice disappesesred
into upstairs rooms
My brother hiding his face
Petrified I could not find her.

I continued to wait
Bearing out the coldness
In my cotton nightdress.
Until the unknown took me to bed.

In the morning there was breakfast
And a vinyl Popeye toy in the bin.
My father stayed in on Wednesdays
To prevent further trouble.

Love Mary **

Before you were mine
You looked after your father
Kept house for a man
Whose life was a disaster
His son, too, called John
Grew up to be a philanderer.
In a grey suit you worked
From nine till five
Thought each day
Could you escape
This noble role set down for you;
A sister you had
Married and free
Lived a life without much strife
So it seemed.
Then as it is the way with men
Who linger after the needs of women;
Frank, your dad,
Taken with a smile and money
Married and moved to the country
To live with Gwen and her mother.
Did he like it ?
I'm not sure
But laziness has its score.
At thirty you were not young
But beauty lay
In your dark and wavy hair
And eyes of hazel brown
That no longered frowned
For you married my dad
And I am glad
Before you were mine.

Thanks to my lovely mother Grace Emily Ayton - Robinson and to Carol AnnDuffy who so inspired me with her poem.

Love Mary ***


Love Mary
Glad to have you Mum

Found you at last! Under that ****** clock,
The hour passed,
What were you saying to me today
About our first date?
Never knew that stations
Had so many venues.
Anyway, my lad, I got there in the end
Found you looking grim,
Words did not begin
But I shy apologised
For being late, was my mistake;
Took your hand from your pocket
And we went out of the station
To a new destination
That lasted a life time.


For my Roger in his pink shirt,
And winklepickle shoes love from your Pinky Woo
Love You ***

I use to to call you funny boy
Because you made me laugh
With that wide smile
And cheeky grin
Red hair like a Cabbage Patch doll.

Clever with puzzles on the floor
Computer games you adored
Always shy when I called
School reports I could applaud.

All the teachers thought you bright
Gave you prise for your insight
But they did not yet see
The hidden qualities to be.

On your bike on the green
Travelling round with a team
Many friends you did have
Turned into a likely lad.

From that quiet and shy child
Something different did emerge
Clever , yes, without a doubt
But cared little for convention's shout.

Dyed your hair bright blonde
Wearing earrings wasn't wrong
All the teachers turned to see
Someone cheeky as could be .

To my funny boy, Kasper, love Grandma xxxx

In shop windows, reflected panes of glass,
There once was a woman walking,
In heels ever so fast;
Her shirts flowed outwards
To the breeze of a step,
Hair bounced upwards,
Silky with respect;
Inside a pocket
A tea bag and a chain,
Sixpence for the metre
To get her home again.

Love Mary **

Paper Bag .

In a cupboard above the fridge,
Containing dinner plates,
And useful letters,
Stamped with dates,
Was a shelf,
Deep and wide,
With hidden things,
Kept inside.
The cupboard had a door,
And a shiny latch,
Not actually forbidden,
To open that catch.

And so it fell on a Summer's day,
That mother peeped inside,
Feeling as she often did,
For the bag of sweetiepies,
And all the day she nibbled,
Tempted by the taste,
The nearness of the sweetness,
She could not erase.
By four o'clock she worried,
The bag was getting thin,
Better go out shopping,
To replace the toffees in.
And so it was that father,
With his generous heart,
Offered in the evening ,
The sweeties,
Without remark.

I too ate the sweeties but never let the bag get too thin.
Love to my dear parents Grace and Bill  from Mary **

My Daisy

From a tiny ball,
I always felt you weep,
Silently,
Whilst your heart broke,
Clutching disappointment,
In your small hands,
Spreading out the jewels,
Of your wonderful tears,
And never letting go.

Love Grandma ***

Oh Mr Spaceman, it seems a long way off,
Since you landed, carefully, on a lunar spot;
Standing at the station gazing at the stars,
On our way to Walthamstow to spend happy hours;
I recall that day, vividly, holding Roger's hand,
Thinking how wondrous,
And lucky I am.

Love Mary **

Sitting round the radio,
We would listen to the play,
Broadcast every Saturday,
In the evening with lights low,
Wrapped in our blankets,
All snug and warm,
Sharing so many stories,
Of lives both great and small.

Those days I remember,
For the closeness that we felt,
Our little family, never remote;
'The Deep Blue Sea',staying behind,
For its impact, of a solitary kind.
Nothing like the radio to let the eye find,
Pictures in the imagination,
Are the very best kind.

Love Mary ***

Welham Road, Streatham.

Brown Clarks shoes all new,
Taking me back and forth to school,
In the rain and in the sun,
Skipping, dancing going for a run;
Under my bed they slept at night,
Polished and bright at morning light,
Was it the fairies that kept them clean,
Or mother's hand,
Spreading the cleaming sheen.

Love Mary **
Thank you Mum and Dad for keeping my feet straight and dry.

The Lego Boards.

I remember the day when everything was perfect,
The children quietly playing before tea,
And no expectation other than the togetherness
Of warmth through a window pane.

The Lego boards stretched out in a line,
Travelling the length of two adjoining rooms,
Houses, bungalows,a mansion and windmill,
Dotted with flower heads to make gardens.

I sat at the sewing machine in the sunshine,
Making a flannel gym slip for Katharine,
Lucky came in and purred against me,
Meowing for the rattle of her biscuits.

This is a life to value, where privilege
And contentment reign from simplicity,
And happiness found in human contact,
Captured in time and with love.

Love Mary xxxx

The old cot .

In our back garden when I a child,
Against the wall and near the top
Stood our old baby cot.
It was painted blue
As my brother came last
A cast iron frame and mesh base.
It now supported my mother's flower pots.
For years it was left abandoned in the rain
Till the paint peeled off and rust got in.
Still it stayed I was over ten.
In all the photographs, there
Remains, this relic from our early days.
Eventually, I moved away
And know not what happened
To it to this day.

Love Mary **