The snagged line grows taut
As I repeat the question
" Is there anything you want?"
House too empty , stairs too steep
She wants me back, I worry
"Weve been to ASDA , dont ask what i bought"
Saturday afternoon phonecall
"How are things?"
The reluctant tagline
"Not so bad"
Front garden going native
I set off down the cracked path
Doesnt want next door to see
I dont wave
TALKING THEIR LANGUAGE
June classroom, stir of voices
Arriva trains glide to the coast
Coffee needs filling, the last biscuit goes
This afternoon we look at idioms
Unpicking centuries, cultures
Somalia, Bangla Desh, Kurdistan
English remains official
Still a puzzle
"Speak slowly and clearly"
"Dont hit trees with sticks"
"Its a piece of cake"
The intricacy of language
Shapes ancient letters
"Lemon squeezy " chimes Messa
Our laughter is shared
UNRAVELLING... during the final years of her life, my mother suffered severe depression. The poem tries to examine the struggle in communication I experienced in these times
TALKING THEIR LANGUAGE
Last year I worked as a voluntary tutor with immigrant learners from various nationalities. This expresses the difficulities the English language sometimes presents , and also some of the fun it can generate, also.