The road lay empty down the lane
No bird flew out across the sand
Alone this trampled world goes by
And dancing hours beneath me call
But in this place that is no more
The latched gate closes once and all.

We climb the downs with outstretched arms
The heather long and heady in,
The scratched and battered dung filled breeze
And wool and sheep spread o’er the land
And yet in hope this day breathes still
With tortoiseshell on mountain hill.


Love Mary x

The weather speaks its wintery tale
On this last day of April
Sending mayhem into bush and tree
Shaking the blossoms in their break
For bud.
The Bride drops her veil
Under Flowering Cherry wings
Red Camelia broaches
Fall as from a night at the theatre
Lost forever in a carpet of dreams.
Around the perimeter
Everything sways
And the blue cloaked conductor
Orchestrates from
The washing line .

Love Mary

That edge of the sea feeling
Barefoot where the sand slops heavy
And popping seaweed drapes knots
Slimey, slippery ribbons drifting
Along with our feet.
Stubbed toes bruise on rocks
And that sudden extra wave
Surprises, chasing knees
And thighs with bubbles.
Sun splinters through spray drops
Brown to golden streaks
Collect in our hair and eyebrows
As the evening slips
Into still waters
And we return home .

Love Mary ***

Running between downpours
Mackintosh over head and back
Clutched tightly the front
To stop the drips on our chests
Run now, go.
And we left the shelter of a shop doorway
Feeling the rain hit our shoes
Soaked socks
Eyebrows drizzle
We keep going in the storm
Reaching a dry spot under
The leaves of a Sycamore tree
Rest, relax
Sharing chewy nuts.
The road is awash
Dribbling streams criss cross
Meeting in drains
And steam rises from tarmac
Misting the air
Then out comes the sun
The blue sweeps in
Blowing away grey clouds
And we continue our journey
Splashing  
In the now still puddles.



I loved these moments .
Mary ***

Float those fingers across my mind
Do not dally in the sad alleyways
For we are always friends
And the dappled Maple
Has been our glade.

Mornings bringing shades of green
Flickering on our window pane
For we are always friends
And the dappled Maple
Has been our glade.

Love Mary **

Give back the tree that stood by the gate
Casting its shadow to the south
Cutting hedges in half
Protecting the smallest of animals
From the hottest sun.

You have been a horizon from a silled room
A fragrance guided by light
Tomorrow's promise of another
And the gap left is a silence
Remembered when I cry .

Standing on this wintery day of branches in May
Take from your mark a measurement between
Thumb and brush
And in proportion place it down
On canvas neatly primed
To pinpoint those places sound
The sky and the ground .
Slowly as each day allows
Measuring, a steady streak
Of edgily painted parts
The picture to complete.

Love Mary

The rows of backgarden fences looked much the same
Crumbling and split wooden planks, large tree roots
Dividing up the length and making mysterious entrances
Where rather dilapidated gates, latched firmly,
So animals could not stray,
Allowed for the start
Of magic.
Out of all these fences one belonged to my grandparents and
Through which our travels to Narnia began.



Love Mary x

Down the lane under the trees
Reaching the latch first, lifted it carefully and quietly not to
Disturb the reverie of the place but he and it was always a he
Came barking and bouncing full pace to see who intruded
No bigger then a foot high, like a bundle of curled white wire
He protestested.
Waiting for a retreat, seduced by his water bowl
Finally peace was restored.
Some days he was out on his walks.
Then the garden lit up without fire.
And we two children were the ones running wild.

Love Mary x

I took the left path where hydrangeas grew and sleepy primroses under woods edged shady trees.
The empty stream ran quietly dry
With grass cuttings piling high.
If one peeped, would find tiny creatures of delight.
To cast a sparkle here and there, a delight.
So on tip-toe, with sandels bent
Up high I reached to take
The plastic fairy as she twirled a pirouette
In a theatre made by chance.
Reflected in a silver mirror intwinned with ivy branch
A mottled foal tends his dreams and Chrismas robin chirps.

My brother took the right hand path where thetrees grew fruit
Ripe berries from the gooseberry bush bulged their prickles
Dangling from hawthorn now a cowboy with a hat
Looking for his fellow Indian with the yellow back sack.
Sheep gather in a hollow, dark, protected from the sun
And Mr toad, now lost of paint, has turned a bit glum.

And so we leave our woodland friends and travel up the *****
Winding round the rose bed and goldfish where they float.
Then up we climb, the middle route, to jump the pruned clipped
Hedge.
The lawn divided in two halves, a contemporary taste.

Now we're nearly at that place where if one was to turn
Could see down across the land
To the sea and sand.
Of all the beauties that I've known
Nothing beats this Island home.

Love Mary x

You paint pictures of small ceramic bowls,
Copies of tree trunks from George Seurat,
A single Plane tree in the local park and
A red apple which use to be two.

I read you my poems over the mobile
The one about the boy on the beach
You liked as it recalled your childhood
Its mood is wistfully sad, we share that.

Love Mary x

I keep going back
To the spot
Where the ocean meets the sky
And I am that child
Who never cried
At the front of the bus
Holding onto the rail
So I don't roll my head in the clouds
Watching the farmland slip by
It was once I.

Love Mary **