Please go to sleep little baby
Please let me lay down my head
Please go to sleep little baby
Please let me get into bed.
Please don't cry little baby
Please let your mind slip to dreams
Please let me sleep little baby
I'm coming apart at the seams!!

Sparkling eyes of blue
marshmallow soft skin
a smile to light the world.
Tiny hands clasping mine
innocence personified
I couldn't love him more.

I'm told to take it easy
I can only take it slow
and when I'll see my feet again, I'm sure I do not know.
My belly's ever swelling
I'm waiting for the news
that will let me wear my skinny jeans
and bend to tie my shoes!
There really isn't long to go
But I can hardly wait
to meet my little sunshine
and to kiss his tiny face.
For now I'll soldier onwards
I'll face the day with cheer
and live in sweet discomfort
until little one is here

I work all day and sleep all night
I barely find the time to write
when time is found to fill my need
I have a cup of tea and read
the words you write upon this site
but still my muse has taken flight.

While life it swells within my belly
ankles lifted, watching telly
6 weeks to go till baby Beau
Will swell my heart and steal the show
With toothless smiles and sleepless nights
My muse to bring such special writes!

a collaboration with Calpurnia Mockingbird*

Write for you
let words pour fourth
for the good of a smile,
to release the pressure,
to dry the tears.

Write for you
because you feel it.
Not for the lightening,
the exclamations at clever rhyming
nor the coloured heart that marks your triumph.

Write for you
for love, for joy, for fun
let your souls soar with the majesty of eagles
upon the freedom of a blank page.

Write for you.
your desires and dreams.
Your wishes and doubts
may echo in the lives of others
but that is not their worth.

Write for you
because it is how you breathe,
how you let go,
be soothed by the flow of ink
for it is your only stillness in an ever spinning world.

Write for you.
Only you.
Always.

Everybody that comes here day in day out and bears their souls, often with no response, yet still they come, because in some quiet way it helps. You know who's awesome?
All of us.
So there!

Watching swings in the wind
swaying, ghostly
sadly empty
chains creak with no laughter to drown the sound
it carries like screams
of all the children
who pleaded
to never
ever
grow
up.

If I was a ship
sent far out to sea
would anyone notice
the abscence of me?
I sit all alone
with my shadow and pen
and long to go home
back to hiding again.
If I was a ship
set to sail without end
would you be my anchor?
sweet fairweather friend.

Here's to the misfits, the losers, the freaks the eternally picked on, the hapless, the weak,
to time spent with textbooks and not on the streets.
It may not be now but someday we will rule
we'll be CEO's, Queens of all, Kings of cool
with cash in the bank and prospects galore
because we understood what high school is for!

When I was a toddler my Dad brought you home
a sweet little ball of grey fur
You'd spent the whole day sleeping tight in his pocket
and greeted the warmth with a purr.
Dad wanted a smoke, so he ducked down an alley
where the boys from the boss they would hide
he noticed a bag on the floor slowly rustling
and found you abandoned inside.
You sweet little kitten, blue eyes widely staring
won over my dad with your pitiful plea
So he cuddled and smuggled you home after hours
as a companion for 3 year old me.
Now 12 years have passed and your grey fur has faded
and sleep is your only desire
I watch your eyes fade as you struggle to see me
they tell me that now is your time.
So I'll wrap you up warm in your best knitted blanket
and cuddle you close to my heart
My Hobo, my buddy, my trusty companion
It's time for your soul to depart.

for Cally*

My family tree has many branches
it bears the fruit of love
it's blossoms bloom to joyful laughter
It's roots are strong and mighty tough.
I offer you it's shade in sunlight
I offer you it's strength of will
I offer you a place of friendship
I offer you a home within.
Should you choose to join our circle,
musicians, poets, artists we,
know that your heart would be so welcome
as part of loving family.
So settle now beneath the branches
and weave the blossoms through your hair
So when you feel your heart is lacking
Look inside and find us there.

So there's a new kid in the classroom
and the other kids all stare
as he comes and sits right next to me
"Why's he sitting there?"
He's not your average schoolboy
he has the darkest stare
that threatens all who see it
thundering through his messed up hair.
He glares at all the others
as his choice they mock with glee
the pretty ones all clucking
as to why he would choose me.
But here he sits, unmoving
solid stone with stormy eyes
while I control my longing
for his hand upon my thigh.
He really is quite dreamy
in his own peculiar way
so I'm scribbling in my notebook
trying to find words to say.
Now he's staring at my notebook
I'm exposed, I want to die
as he reads these words I'm writing
and puts his hand upon my thigh!!!

Friends at war
Bonds are broken
precious words remain unspoken.
Get together
Sort it out
Kick and tussle, scream and shout.
Make it better
Let it lie
Say forgiveness, not goodbye.
Hold your hands
and not your tongues
get it sorted, get it done.
Admit your faults
Don't let this fester
You're his muse and he's your jester.
Please repair
this friendships tether
Before I bang your heads together!!

I'm catching up with lightening pace
I'm reading up a storm
I'm reading, learning, soaking up
those left since I've been gone.

I'm catching up with poems
at a rate I've never known
I'm hungry for their meaning,
for their meter, rhyme and flow.

My friends have come to greet me
and their smiles they light my day
it's really good to be here,
like I've never been away.

I hug the broken hearted
place a kiss upon their brow
I know true love will find them
once again someday somehow.

I soak up all your stories
all the tales of mirth and woe
the darkness and the moonlight
the sunlights fiery glow.

It feels so good to be here
sat alone with all my friends
as I wrap myself in letters
hoping that it never ends.

Do not label me.
I will not fold to fit in to your
pigeon hole.
I will remain unchained, 
unchanged by your desire for conformity.
All that I ever was, all that I may ever be 
doesn't rest upon your opinion of my being.
Do not label me......someday I might surprise you

Target practice, aiming high
shoot these stones and watch them fly
see them hit and watch them fall
dropping bottles, one and all.

Line them neatly in a row
dented plastic, all will go
crashing quickly to the ground
with this new skill that I have found.

Knock them over, stack them up
once again, I just can't stop
precision like you've never seen
to rival Katniss Everdeen.

She had an arrow and a bow,
I begged my dad but he said no
cause with an aim as true as mine
he thinks I'd end up doing time!

So pebbles, sticks and bits of string,
who knew the fun these things could bring?
the satsisfaction is quite grand
to fell these items with my hands.

I love to see my Dad impressed
because he is the very best
but even with his throwing arm
he cannot hit the neighbours barn!

and so I laugh and love to tease
while sitting here beneath the trees
he tries to make an angry face
but laughter cracks it with quick pace.

So I call him my " Bottle Boy"
shout "line them up" just to annoy
and shoot those bottles to the ground
another favourite pastime found.

Every summer, off we go
we pack the van and leave
where we'll end up we don't know
we drive and then we'll see.
My family become nomads
we travel across the land
we see our friends and family
the time we have is grand.
We sleep under the moonlight
and sing around the fire
we live this way till autumn,
doing as our hearts desire.
We came here to get petrol
and lots of sweet supplies
the sign said "we have WiFi"
in truth, I almost cried.
It's fun to be a nomad
and live without a care
but it's nice to touch base now and then
to know the world's still there.

The heavens have opened
Let thunder roar
Let lightening flash wildly
Chase the heat from my door.
The rain comes in buckets
and raps on the panes
of my wide open windows,
wind rattles the shades.
Its soothing the flowers
so tired in the heat
as it runs like a river
down the sun battered street.
I'm thankful for showers,
with this deluge I'm smitten
the sun's shown no mercy,
now its *** has been bitten.
So I'll pray this storm gathers
more fury, more speed
and I'll soak in it's drama,
it's coolness I need.
Then when it is over
and all is washed clean
I'll watch the heat rising
the tarmac will steam
the wind will fall silent
it's gusts but a dream
while the heat bakes our bodies
and we dream of ice cream.

My grandpa took me camping
it was an intervention
this was denied by him of course
as soon as it was mentioned.

We pitched a tent on forest floor
told tales around the fire
we swam the lake and walked the hills
no WiFi his desire

The night was filled with twinkling stars
the heavens lay before us.
We woke refreshed and entertained
by a hundred bird dawn chorus.

We packed our kit and travelled home
of signal I was dreaming
I heard that beep, so comforting
my cue to begin streaming!

Drop me a line, send me a text
it gives me such a thrill
to get a message, make a friend,
for when I've time to ****.

The world is full of people
rushing through their daily tasks,
life running on a treadmill,
slowing down too much to ask.

So tell me how your day went
and I'll share mine with you
a little light of friendship
shines so bright when one is blue.

I'm just a kid, with an inkstained heart
My pen another limb
looking out for all the answers
to these times we're living in.

So I'll wish you all good morning,
may you smile throughout your day
and may love and friendship find you
as you go along your way.

I handed in my homework
Gave it with a nervous smile
the paper damp from sweaty palms,
the waiting was a trial.

Today I got my paper back
from the dreaded Mr Barr
he grinned at me and gave a wink....
along with an A*!

He said I made him chuckle
as he read my little rhyme,
he thought the rhyming clever
and the rhythm quite sublime

He asked me one last question
in the hallway where we met
with deep concern upon his brow
"Did you find your brother yet?"

Now I'm hiding in the bathroom
racing with the lesson bell
quickly writing this wee poem
to let you know my work did well.

My brother's somewhere hiding,
first comes counting, then comes finding
but this child that I am minding
my last nerve he's tightly winding

Mum and Dad have gone out dining
on their date night, romance shining
while the little brat is whining
hidden in the curtain lining

So I'll get on with my writing
cause it must be more exciting
to be sat here with my rhyming
as my skills they need refining.

Now the little ork is pining
still not found, my name he's crying
eyes accusing me of lying....
Is a pinky promise binding?

There's a meanie on the monkey bars
He's swinging to and fro
He's kicking at the other kids
and telling them to go,
He will not let them play here
it makes the others sad
that was until my brother
came a'crying to my Dad.

My Dad he is a Viking
eyes like oceans, hair of gold,
his shoulders are like boulders
and his glare could turn hell cold
Across the park he walked with Ephraim,
and the monkey bars did mount,
then hurtled straight toward this lad
with his loudest war-cry shout.

The meanie dropped and bolted,
didn't want to wait for more
from this crazy guy, with fury's eye,
feet an inch above the floor.
He made sure every kid was hung
like washing on the line
and then he hung there with them
that crazy Dad of mine.

I don't want to go out dancing
I don't want to "hang" with boys
I don't want to wear a push up bra
(Not that there's much to push)
nor make out in some grubby car.

I don't want to cake on make up
I don't want to weave my hair
I don't want to wear stilettos
Or a skirt cut up to where??

I just want to write my poems
play my games and read my books,
have some decent conversation
not based around a popstars looks
(Or the *** he's *******)

I know I'm odd but please don't judge me
I'm a girl, just not the same
call me names and laugh behind me
call me ******, call me lame.

Maybe someday you will see me,
well payed job and handsome man
and wonder how I got that lucky
just by being who I am.

Yet for now you only see me
as a nerd, a geek, a jest,
Take your hot pink lip gloss, sweetie
and push that pram like all the rest.

My English teacher asked us
to bring a poem in
one that really speaks to us
that resonates within
I did a lot of research
read poems through the night
Wordsworth, Keats, nor Shakespeare
could help me with my plight
I needed just one poem,
an expression to confess
my deeply burning hatred
of this teacher, unimpressed.
So I rifled through the classics,
through the bigwigs and the toffs
but all I found were thee's and thou's and an awful lot of doths
then I was sent a masterpiece
that describes these thoughts of mine
when this teacher says my poetry
is just a waste of time,
so I'll read it out in class today,
then with the Head I'll end up sat
but I'll always be so grateful
that John Cooper Clarke wrote ****.

My brothers only 2 years old
and as sweet as he can be
for a half a pint sized demon
with his gaze fixed firm on me.
He tries to steal my make up
all my things are his to take
Please mother can we take him back
and soon, for goodness sake!

Take a coin and throw it in
wishes come
to those who chase them.