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.