I had no valentines card
To give you
So I made you one
From an Ann Cockerill
Advertisement painting
Of a *** of Spring flowers
And wrote on it
In my poor hand
Love you

Pinky Woo **

Your hands are stiff but I take them
Feeling how cold in spite of the sun
But today we will drive you to Ventnor
It's been sad these years without Mum.

The wind is light and the sky azure
Memories flood through my brain
Today we will drive you to Ventnor
Have lemonade and ice- cream again.

Love Mary ***

Van Gogh's models were the poor,
The peasants, hungry with grief,
Girls lost and lonely in misery,
The sewer for whom time was a thief.

Manet came from the classes,
His models passionately posed,
One controversial painting,
Naked and eyes not closed.

Delacroix had them writhing,
Like snakes in an arabesque,
Or standing there half- naked,
A banner wrapping their head.

Then we come to Picasso,
The woman and girls that he loved,
Painted with ultimate tenderness,
A child holding a dove.

Go back in time to the medieval,
Where models turned into saints,
And angels surrounding madonnas
Quietly came and went.

Today the life class is different,
Feminism has made it unclean,
And Art Schools practice the video,
Naked bodies now rarely seen.

But drawing from observation,
Is a skill perfected by work,
Letting  the imagination,
Creating a beauty that lasts.

Love Mary **

So there you stand dressing,
Tying that hair in the tightest bun
******* round with a ring
Your coat dangles fluffily in the wind
And he's waiting near the seat
Without wings, holding half a glass
Of lager.
Red shoes send you upstairs
Clickety-clack on the metal trims.
Then the children arrive from school
By taxi paid by you.
Now you're poorer
Than before
And the pub sells
Chips and beans.
The baby's smiling at
All of the people
So you can't win.
And daddy dangles
A silver chain
As if this is what you need.


Love Mary x

I only have words
If they are of use to you
Pretty ones and silly
Ones with a lot of chew.
These words that I give
Are all I have for you
So put them in a paper bag
And open when you choose.

Love Mary x

In a hot room overlooking the football ground
I felt the pains filling my brain in reams
The sky held to blue all day and the sheets white
Then I pushed to see and someone ran the corridor.

The silver lift doors swung open and we separate
As your name I bounced off every wall, I shout,
‘Deliverance without my gentle shepherd, my love’.
You peep through green doors to a daughter born.

Love Mary

Oh little garden new this year
The beginning just begun
The seeds and saplings planted
To start a journey long.

This gift of nature to another
Was given out of love
So they may know what I have
And also know my love.

Love Mary x

The hall made for singing on Sundays
Filled with pink leggings and tutu skirts
And an old piano in the corner
Watching a flurry of signets point.

Late to start, us being poor, but anyway
You wanted to try and both were good
I wanted a ballerina in the family
And the hour passed fast and costly.

When one of you, after university, took up
A position at Sadlers Wells in the offices,
You got cheap tickets and we all went
At Christmas, sitting in the stalls, aglow.

Love Mary x

Stephen, love surrounded you
Tragedy befell you
Corruption embalmed you
We all failed you
You made us better people
You made us more aware
That for racial hatred
There is no room to bare.

Nothing can replace you
A boy of seventeen
Helplessly slaughtered
In a London scene
Remembrance of you
Is the best we can give
Beautiful boy
Just wish you'd lived.

Love Mary x

Out in the garden is the place to be
Cutting and pruning the old oak tree
Edging the grass to where it should be
Hoping the sunshine will again be me.


Love Mary

Understanding that you can rarely change things
It is best just to forget and simply go on in doubt
Hope rides its own journey on the back of a bike
Children  send photos and come round to watch.

This is the itinerary of the invalided life and care
It stretches to the isles of the church and the roses
To the solicitude of waiting for door bell rappings
To ‘End Game’and all its imagination of the reality.

Love Mary xxxx

So well, let the clowns come on
Dusty in their fancy clothes
Take the time to give to friends
And the orchestra digress.

For love rolls out the barrels
Children gather in the park
The famous climb ladders
And woodpeckers eat grass.

This world is uneven
strutting ancient band
Lost forever in Autumn
Leaves golden brown.

In the arms of Madonna’s
Is the future queen
And what you are is
Not what you get.

Love Mary

I like paintings with passageways
They point you in two directions
Multispectival,
Metaphysical all the way.
In my hall is "The Courtyard",
A print by Pieter de *****,
It shows two Dutch ladies
Contemplating their chosen routes
One looks outward to the world
A solitary life,
The other in humble domesticity
A child playing at her feet.
Both cut off from the others world
One wonders what has changed
Are women any happier today
Combining two distinct domains.

I guess there are pros and cons
For all us women folk
Times when life fulfills ourselves
Others when we'd throttle throats.
Children need to be born
To continue the human race
We all need to put them first
So they can enjoy their race.

Love Maryx


My four children survived their upbringing
To be creative , loving individuals .

Vigo did it well with camera roll,
Dipping into dreamers' daze,
Capturing a warm and wanting glow,
The spectacle of deckchair rows.

Delicious dancing girls raise a leg,
The dipper glides a windy ride,
There is grandpa on his wheels,
Cavorting  between lovers' bows.

And  where were you on Sunday?
Underneath the bandstand clock,
Waiting for life to depart,
And the silence of the dark.

Love Mary **

Late in the 60s
It became all the rage
For women to wear dresses
Without any cage
Take a bit of material
Cut a hole for the neck
Sew up the side seams
You'll quickly get the nack
Put in a zipper
Long as can afford
Finish with a gold belt
How could one want more.
Everyone looked pretty
Whatever shape or size
Hid all the bumpy bits
Producing a sillth like bride
The young looked gorgeous
Even without a chest
Did not need to bother
With a bra or a vest
Nothing was as simple
As the tricel shift dress.
Never creased or wrinkled
Always looked its best
Now they are vintage
Collected by a few
Twiggy must still have some
To put on view.

Love Mary

You know that he is looking
As the train leaves the town
The carriages are closed now
No one moves around
And your face goes down as you feel his gaze
So you drop a sideward glance
In the window pane
The scarf across your neck
Is a deep shade of brown
And it matches your hair
With its red topped crown
But you do not move
Not an eyelash blurs
Just sit in the silence as he stares.

Love Mary x

She gathered her gloves from top bookcase
Those fingerless ones knitted by a friend in
Grey and blue, slidding them along the rail
To keep her hands clean and warm, cabled.

Love Mary ***

She came into my arms
Soft flesh over bones
Sweet smile curved lips
Only for a while we played
My new grandchild Primrose.

Love Grandma ***

The ceramic ***.

It had been admired from afar for years this large ceramic ***
With its abstract animal markings and David Austin old rose
Neglected by the continual change in temperature and attention
Ten years of survival had been amazing outside this small home.

The lady next door was to gain a gift as the family were selling
She gained the ceramic *** to be cultivated to her delighting
Next year it would be colourful with a variety of pretty flowers
One never knows if one waits long enough how the stars shine.

Love Mary **

Never found the purple
Through all the years of searching
So what was started remained incomplete
Stashed away in hope that maybe
Recovery would mend broken hearts
Replenish the solitary dream
And bring warmth to those
Forgotten and bereft.

Love Mary

Now we find
The garden
Sweet with lavender,
The roses giving out
Their perfume,
Still air after the storm;
Scorched pavements
From sun's shining;
Hollyhock coloured stripes
Horizontal laddered stems;
Quietness in the afternoon hour
Before the coming home
Begins.

Love Mary ***

How many lifetimes would I need
Merely to read aloud
Only the names of those who died
At the hands of the predators,
The unaccountable rulers,
The great dictators.
Only to make a start,
I would set up my soapbox at Hyde Park Corner
Keeping apocalyptic preachers company,
Or occupy the Empty Plinth in Trafalgar Square
With a friend, a lunch-box and glass of water
And read aloud to those who might listen
And those who care,
From a text that would solely consist
Of a verified list
Of innocenct lives lost
In the entrenchment of every autocrat
Who in his lust for power
And the creeping poison of his paranoia
Tramples on justice,
Makes torture a tool of government,
Imprisonment his answer to his critics
And execution his advocate.
And as each page of the list would fall
To be floated away by the wind,
My friend who surfs the internet
Would step up to supply me
With a new list to dismay and terrify me,
A list in forty languages and more
A list to extend
And exceed all other lists that went before.
And he and I, alternatively,
Reading in relays would take breaths;
Speak up, read on;
As if by calling out a name we might restore
The breath of life; or at least,
A stranger in the milling crowd
Might, after half a day, exclaim
‘I knew him!’ or ‘I remember her!’,
And justify the roll- call,
And suddenly give sense and resonance
To names on pages blowin’ in the wind .

By John Garbutt

There is not a drop of hope
All pages completely tight
Feeling it must stop soon
They all went to the party.

The moth eaten cat beams
At their return to number
Wall tapestry girl waiting
For an overdue love letter.


Dying is a miraculous gift
For the suffering confused
The freedom of the garden
Wooden trowel and sweets.

Love Mary ***

Stand with me by the fence
Where all our life has been
The entrance to our hearts
And back again.

And if you have to weep
Not into the flowers
For they get enough rain
Love me, kiss me again.

Love Mary x

My babies.

Scrabbling up the wall of desire ,
I took them in my hands,
Bundles of cuddly babies,
With ribbons in their hair.

Oh they were ever so pretty ,
With chubby fingers and toes,
I wrapped them up together,
And in a basket they did go.

Sometimes they were naughty,
Would not have a bath,
Had to bubble them all over,
They thought that quite a laugh.

The babies came everywhere with me,
Never, left them at home,
People on the buses,
Occasionally, did moan.

But my lovely babies,
Decided to grow up,
Found one did not need a ribbon,
Because, he was a lad.

Now I have no babies,
They have all flown away,
Found other babies,
To go and make a home.

Love Mary , Mum , Grandma ***
For my 3 daughters and one son.Thank you so much for being great children.xxxx

I will hear you calling across the stars
Lift up my wings in a heavenly bow
I will sing to you now and for always
Lonely feet drifting, waving as I go.

Lighter than thoughts lost in a dream
Never to be found, never to be seen
I will love you my one glittering boy
I will hear you calling across the stars

Love Mary

I'm holding on and you can't come
I travel alone you hold my phone
And it rings on and on
But to answer would be wrong
And I send my love
Far out
To the world I knew
It was you and you .
And I am dancing cause I'm sad
We are together it's true
But the night is dark
I'm alone.

Love Mary ***

Their out of the office,
On another line,
Away today
Be back Tuesday ;
Can't take your call
Right now
But if you leave your number
We will get back to you!
I am sorry this mail box is full;
All the lines are busy right now
We do apologise;
This person no longer works
In this department;
Please hold the line.
This Extention is unavailble.

Living in a world of excuses
And abuses
Lies and deception
Poor reception
Does my head in!!!

Mary

A Birch tree up in younder wood becalmed
And no injustice to this bleach’ed land
For dusk doth bite the lonely head of man
Who in despair bleeds out his endless hours.


Love Mary x

There is nothing left the child said
Opening up the heaviest cake tin.
There is nothing left in father’s pocket
And no sweets in the tall glass jar.
I have no clothes for the Winter and
And my special thoughts have died
It is the end of the month so let’s try.


Love Grandma Mary xxxx

Under Scarlet lay
A letter written on a special day
Written by a loving father
To the mother she once had.
Every night she dreamed a dream
About a lady on a movie screen
With a teardrop in her eye
Waving softly a sad goodbye.

For beautiful Tasha who died at 30
A day after Scarlet's birth.
Love Mary

We wait for you under an umbrella of love
Collected are your needs, neatly in a box
Surrounding you we look forward to the day
When we shall see your face, stroke your head
Arlo, stay safe little one in the waters of time
Knowing Grandma has you always in mind .

Love Grandma to Arlo ***

To give up hope is a woeful thing
It leaves the mind an empty skin
With nothing to go around
And pointless visiting.

Love Mary x

I caught you kissing behind the hedge
In the field near the onion bed
Thé river was passing by
And I was much too shy.

So stood and watched with eyes bright
While woodpecker spread his yellow head
And the ground softened at your touch
My hair fell flaxen over the feather steps.

Love Mary xxxx

No longer do I walk on the quiet land
Or watch the tree buds on Spring days
For I am lost to those things forever so
And am star dust to the earthly soul.

Love Mary xxxxx

Whenever my mother went out
There was a place I knew about
Not a step too far
Up the stairs and behind the bars
Along a dark and narrow hall
My parents bedroom door.

Standing outside in my dress
Could I enter without a trace
My fingers grasped the handle ****
Twisted gently the door was fast
Found the chiselled metal key
Opened the door quickly
Stood a while least I collapse
The smell of sweet lavender plus
Stretched out on my parent's bed
Bounced a bit it must be said
The springs were rather creeky too
Wondered what they would do
Two pillows at the head
And a candlewick bedspread.

What intrigued me most of all
The dressing table mirrored wall
Creeping to the window ledge
Peered around least I be found
Intrepid invader of secret worlds (drowned)

The top drawer was the best
The others containing mainly vests
And neatly folded underwear
Stockings rolled into *****
Pulled open the heavy drawer
Began my journey to explore
Opened up the jewellery box
Placed the trinkets on my chest (lap)
A moonstone set in filigree
My grandmother's, I do believe
Clipped it round my slender neck
Held it up with great respect
Then a golden nugget chip
On a sort of safety clip
Came from a mining town
Somewhere in Cape Town.

Rings and other dainty things
Curry grips and cream tins
Powder puffs and pink rouge
Pear earrings with a *****
Letters bound up with string
Hankerchiefs written in
A little note I did write
When my spelling was not quite right
How I loved all this stuff
Smelling of my mother's love.


Love Mary x

They all spoke at once,
Claiming their first choice of pose:
Reclining sublimely on mattress,
Or balancing slightly on toe,
Some wanted seated sedately,
Others curled up into a ball.
Whatever it was it was difficult,
I did get paid after all.

So after position was chosen,
Took quietly to my place,
Hoping that comfort found me,
I did not get a pain or an ache.
Found a patch of grey on the window,
To focus my gaze for the day.
Then drifted off into dreamland,
Until my head fell away.

Love Mary **

What do you do with my words
Stretched out upon your ceiling
To find in them meaning heard
What do you do with my world’s
I hear your words in mine
Conversing and dancing
Chasing each other across the globe
What do you do with my world’s.

Love Mary x

Let’s go high up as black dotted wings
Tempering the wind in search of home
Where no longer there is day and night
And together we float in the silver light.

Days of sorrow vanish in sunshine’s haze
The white cliffs throwing us their spray
In a goodbye gesture where the waves stay
And we’re leaving, out above the ocean today.

Love Mary x

He puts out his tiny hand
To hold my finger
In its red glove
And his mouth curves
Into a smile.

Such a welcome
For an elderly me
I want to grasp his soul
Be part of those first steps
Taste his world.

A splendid moment
For us all three
My daughter
And her third son
A blonde wistful child
Full of poetry.

Love Grandma **

Finding this place has allowed
My family to know how I feel
To capture memories to read
To tell how much I love each
In a special and particular way.

In doing this I read the words
Written by others for reasons
That they know not quite
And oh how similar we are
Under Van Gogh's Cosmic sky.

Love Mary x

We took the road with crooked end
And followed out across the dawn
As rabbits set the branches back
Their feet soft oblongs down the track
And child of gypsy whispering words.

Love Mary x

It had not been easy
The storms were blowing
I turned in bed gently
Hoping not to be dead.

Stages of terror crossed
The heathland; I came
And sat beside your head
You tried to give me strength.

We flew up to the mountains
Two birds with golden wings
And hid our heads in the foliage
Of darkness without sin.

Love Mary **

I think this is why you came to my room
On a sudden impulse that I would be there
Waiting for the person I needed but never said
The quiet brown bird with songs in his head
And you came because you saw in this child
A woman to grow your children and be a friend
The room was empty and the flowers gone
On the piano was your music I wanted to hear
Played softly with a warm heart and a longing
To stay.

Redoing the stitches
Did not mend the wound.

Love Mary x

I lost my maidenhead
In a big, big bed
It was not frightening
Or particularly exciting
Waiting out the waves
I lay in myself
Wondering how long
It would go on
Sweat and soft breath
Rolling together into a ball.

Stayed all night and in the morning
Saw the room
Daylight filtered through half opened curtains;
It was nice this silence
This getting to know
For the first time, another,
A man, son and brother,
Someone's father.

You stood behind me
Looking in the mirror
My freckled face, make up gone
Showing you me;
And now we were one in some unaccustomed way
We belonged to this room
Covered in your clothes
Ornaments on a fireplace
Watermarks on the ceiling
I liked it here so far from home
Mother's little daughter did it
All on her own.

For my dear Rog Love Mary ***

I recall a day in Summer
Many years ago
When my life was about handstands
Done in a row
Fingers stretched out
Pressing the ground
My legs went upwards
Splaying about
Dresses floating
Catching the wind
Pigtails all dangling
Needles and pins
Staying steady
Was hard to begin
But eventually mastered
The handstand thing.


Love Mary ***

I always wanted to meet a genius
Being not one myself
But every time I thought I'd found
Was always something unsound
A scratch or scrape in the wrong place
An area unclearly seen
That in the end
My search did end
No genius to be my friend.

Plenty in the times of old
The voice vigorous and bold
Now there is shimmer on the bough
Temptations for an hour
But that quality I do seek
Lies dormant and not complete.

Emily Dickinson
Why do I love You, Sir?
480

“Why do I love” You, Sir?
Because—
The Wind does not require the Grass
To answer—Wherefore when He pass
She cannot keep Her place.

Because He knows—and
Do not You—
And We know not—
Enough for Us
The Wisdom it be so—

The Lightning—never asked an Eye
Wherefore it shut—when He was by—
Because He knows it cannot speak—
And reasons not contained—
—Of Talk—
There be—preferred by Daintier Folk—

The Sunrise—Sire—compelleth Me—
Because He’s Sunrise—and I see—
Therefore—Then—
I love Thee—

Mum I never a got a chance to say goodbye
I felt you wouldn't want me there
Standing by your side
I knew you would know
The end was in sight
And as never ready for heaven
It would not be right.

Dying is not a picture house
Or time  for voice transmitters
So I sat by a vase of flowers
And thought of you for ever.

And in the many years
That have past since your death
Have put you on Facebook
The place you'd love the best.

I hope I was right.

Love Mary **