Love filling a blank page
What it says at the end of its days
Is what two people made of it.

Love Mary x

When you are not understood
Like the clock stopping its ticking
Yet still there in the hall
As substance without voice
And then there is a turning away.

For no longer all that expectation
An empting of oneself.
Like the snail's silver trail
A relic from the past
Deposited on a garden path.

Love Mary x

Mary Rose I loved you
Such a magical shop
Up the stairs of wonder
Residing at the top.

Love Mary x

The tree stood in its shadow
Branches leaning slightly left
Surrounding field stretching
Green acres  of sun bright
Shapes against a cloudy blue.

Stone dry wall built to last
Marks out the foreground
Of sparkling citrus breath
Emptying of all bird sound
To the movement of a lens.

Love Mary ***

I remember you
Do you remember me
We were just together
But we shouldn't be
Then you sat me down
And you touched my hand
Then you sat me down
And I turned around
And my heart did leap
The words were shy
Then you sat me down
I began to cry
In a silent place
We then embraced
Then I turned around
And I found your knee
And what was forbidden
Had to be.
I remember you
Do you remember me.


Love Mary **

Summer meadow you are calling me
The red poppies standing as swaying trees
Heads of corn tall in the light
My dress shimmering white
I have the picture in my head
Also in my album bed
For this day of moment's power
Etched upon a life-time's file
In the shade you came to me
Held me up so I could see
The love you had and let it be
In the meadow wild and free.



For my Roger and a wonderful day we spent in Essex.in 1968/9

Throwing my coat across the classroom
An impulse brought on by over enthusiasm
for an idea.
Landing on the teacher's desk
I still had no fear.
It was then I realised that
People were powerless.
Now at sixty five and infirm
I realise just how much.

Love Mary **

It seems to me
When you are young
And never again does it come
A sort of madness
Invades the scene
One wallks about
In another stream.

And so it came to be
On a hot and sunny day
Walking down a crowded street
Not dressed quite complete
In fact hardly anything at all
A bikini and nothing more
Went with boyfriend
Whose name was Rog
Dark and handsome
My prince frog
We went to pay a bill
For his mother
At Basildon still.

How the folks looked at me
Skipping along
In my frills
All the chaps turned around
Women whispered underground.
Everybody seemed to smile
Was this thing really allowed.

Now I am old and grey
Everybody looks away
But in my heart
I'm still that lass
Whose behaviour was
Rather rash.

Mary

We had so much fun when we were very young. Thank you my Roger.

Unassuming beauty
A manner quiet as May
Gentle in her kindness
Grateful in her ways
A life lived in Caring
For those that she loves
Undemanding peace maker
Saviour to the cubs.

Love Grandma Mary ***

Your learning to read my Evelyn
Its not easy at first
Starting are phonics to find
Then sight words behind
One must look and say
To end the day
And pictures help
The words be spelt
With memorial
Prédiction
A dog and a mat
And sleepy cat.

Love Mary **

Between my heart and the page
There isn't any gap
The page needs no looking
My heart does that
It flies there inside me
Strokes across an age
Gives the world a truthfulness
That is handmade.

Love from Mary x

The green dress is the nearest I got
To writing a poem about sensuality
It rests in an envelope hidden
when I wore this mid-calf dress
The palest and subtlest of greens
I was aware how every seam caressed
Each pocket beckoned fingertips
The front opening's catching edges.


As I walked along the Mall
Breathing in perfumed air
Spilling out from breast and hip
Captivated by the openness of stride
I noticed people were looking
What was it that I communicated?
It was just an ordinary dress
In the palest and subtlest of greens.


I still have the dress somewhere.

Love Mary

I think of this bench
In the shade of two small trees,
Surrounded by roses,
And in Winter their thorns
Spike the damp earth.

How will it be years hence,
When children sit
And women knit,
Some at lunch, finding
Peace looking at the sky.

I put it there for you and you and you
So that its comforting presence
Is a reminder of our days
And your tomorrows
In this garden I loved.

Love Mary xxxx

Whilst away for a few days
He bought a book
Was thinking she might like it,
And on the Tuesday as welcoming
Her in, he handed it to her
And so in his heart it begins.
She did not know
He loved her in this way
Until oneday
Their hands touched
So gently at a goodbye,
The streets were dark
Her car parked,
But slowly after
Many months
Of watching
The slowness went
And they said 'Hello'
Properly
To let each other
Know.

Love Mary **

I hope you understand
I know that not be easy
Short we are on intuition
As canker binds the vein.

Withered soul outpouring
The tempest grass flowing
I hope you understand me
Sad it be if not.

Love Mary ***

I remember all those places
Where I felt you loved me
Sometimes quietly with
Insignificance
As an ordinary day began
At the beginning of spring.

I remember my passion for you
And how you loved it
Over and over again
Joining our sweet bodies
United in our bed
And the after sleep of cats.

I remember your reading to me
In soft tones the story I loved
Sitting closeness in the heart
Feeling your hair on my face
Watching the pages turn
Always an unfolding touch.

I remember you loving me
The way I wanted to be loved
In all the places that I needed
With every part of your being
This was a great love
Never taken for granted.

Love Mary ***

Running outstretched to meet the birds
As they took flight at the field’s edge
Faces brimmed over with bright light
Pink boots left the ground, jumping
And hearts filled with the watching.

Love Maryxxx

Welham Road, Streatham.

Brown Clarks shoes all new,
Taking me back and forth to school,
In the rain and in the sun,
Skipping, dancing going for a run;
Under my bed they slept at night,
Polished and bright at morning light,
Was it the fairies that kept them clean,
Or mother's hand,
Spreading the cleaming sheen.

Love Mary **
Thank you Mum and Dad for keeping my feet straight and dry.

Lilies
Will you wait by the lilies side
In your flowery shirt
Wait for me by the church
In the country road, casually,
And carry me home at last
Never, longer to be alone.

Love Mary xxxx

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 **

In the bottom of the wardrobe
A pair of white patent shoes
With a gold buckle, glued,
You loved my shoes
Wedding shoes
In the bottom of a wardrobe
Made for two.

Our wedding day guest room
Small and neat
An almost empty wardrobe for
People to rent,
Ours was filled with one hanging shirt
A wedding day suit
And a plastic belt.

We slept in a bed
Which smelt of sea air
At breakfast we sat near
A gun man's chair
Eating fried eggs and soaky bread,
Then off to the beach
Streets ahead.


Getting sunburnt
All over our backs
Time to make, homeward tracks,
Out of the wardrobe came my shoes
Still as shiny, almost brand new
Put them on with a clackerty clack
Held you hand all the way back.

To Roger love Mary xxc

Where is truth, does it exist anywhere?
This is what it is, broken strength.
Lonely, I hear you crying in the hall
Why?, you said,
And a box and a pair of shoes
Were delivered.

Love Mary xxxx

So many ways of writing.

He read me a page from his diary,
Stating his comings and goings,
The movement of the moon as
It disappeared at dawn break,
With wind direction, north westerly,
The days shopping list of groceries,
His meals and walks in the park,
The washing and cooking;
And succinct statements about
Mary's health.
At the end I thought how beautiful
Writing with so little but saying
So much more.

For my Roger
Love Mary xxxx

The sprouts got pushed to the corner
Hidden under knife and folk
The roast beef in a paper napkin
To the bin I slide
Ate all the carrots, the potatoes
And Yorkshire pud
And the pudding was scrumptious
Just the way it should.
Christmas blessings
To all who do not
Have much to eat
This difficult year.

Love Mary **

I have to be brave enough
Not to mind being forgotten
For most days.
To no longer be a card on a shelf
Or a phone call away
Letting others' days
Be their own
Unhindered by sorrows
Or sad memories
Or burdened by my wanting
To be carried around
Like a honoured trophy.
This has to be my last gift
A real gift of love
Which says be free
Of me and all that I was
Because your days
Are another time
And have their splendour.
Goodnight my dearest
Children, goodnight.


Love Mum, Mary

The River Boy.

He fell in the river that child of mine,
On the edge was perched steady and fine,
Feeding the ducks bread from his hand,
When suddenly, splash,his feet lost land;
For a second we stared at the swirling spot,
Then instinct took over I grabbed the lot,
Out came a boy as wet as could be ,
Wrapped him in cardigans, then home for tea.

Alex fell in the River Thames at Staines when he was about 6-8 years old? Do you remember son? Love Mum **

How to get there, that place of pity
Where others really mean theirs
Instead of fumbling like a demon
On stain glass and missing the boat.

Hope fell out the window of waste
Those who are fortunate can scream
But the rest stripped naked near die
Empathy is an old fashioned word.

Love Mary **

‘ Lies in white Coates ‘

Love Mary x

Claim that place that we shared
Heap your heart with our days
Sit patiently on that seat of yours
Where the yellow roses flower.

Each morning dip your fingers
In the books of love and live
You are my dearest daughter
Who glad I was that she came.

Love Mummy xxxxx

I will not know you little child
Or see your shining eyes
Look up at me.
Never trace that tiny face
And hold you upon my knee.

It is a sadness I must bear
But bear it tenderly
With a love that knows
No infinity or finality.


To Victoria and Pieter for their baby
Love Mum ***

Oka .

Little black baby ,
Your hair tightly curled
Came with you parents,
To inhabit new world,
The streets of Streatham,
A London suburb,
Became your place
of residence,
For a time you dwelled.

Oka , you were beautiful,
In your nylon frock,
Ribbons in your hair,
Brightly coloured socks,
Your name means Cherry Blossom,
In English and Japanese,
But you came from Jamaica,
With the banana trees.

Your mother had to work,
So left you with a friend,
She looked after you
From eight till ten.
I would play with you,
Tickle your toes,
Give you a bottle,
Loved you lots I know.
Your parents returned,
To their land of sun,
We all missed you,
The sixties had begun.

Two years later,
Your parents returned,
They'd had another baby,
A pretty little girl.
But no Oka,
You'd died whilst away,
My friend was at work,
So the new baby could not stay,
Felt your loss for many a year,
Your parents disappeared,
We all missed you,
Our beautiful, Oka, girl.

In memory of Oka a sweet little black baby,
Born at the beginning of the sixties
And died before she was two.

Love Mary **

The little girl who opened
The world of clinking shells.

Love Grandma ***

Looking down into silence
Where there is no return
Remembering sensations
loved and affirmed
The hundreds of hours
I stayed by you side
Resting my head
Where you abide.

Take me with breaking day
In a casket of green
A single pink spray
With leaves to be seen
Choose early Spring bulbs
And your checked shirt
Then whistle a tune
Try not to be hurt.


To Roger love Mary
Sorry I had to go .***

The stillness
After the cat had gone
The house seemed empty,
Devoid of soft patter;
Downstairs,
The shaking of biscuits on tin- foil
And the long slow meow
Of a morning yawn.
The warm spot in the garden
Now an obvious space,
Plantless from years of basking.
Only the birds seemed grateful
Peace had returned to their world,
No more feathered grassways
To clear.
We buried you in front of the fir tree,
You were part of eighteen Christmases
Our very dear black and white cat.

Love the kearns family

Round about . For Evelyn .

He took me to the station
And put me on a train
never wanted to go there
So soon came back again.

In the land of jumblies
Where pink balloons fly
And snowdrops are yellow
I am rather shy.

Yes said the peacock,
We'll always let you in
As long as you wear striped pyjamas
And wave a fountain pen.

So when I got home
Went straight up to bed
To find all my animals
And wrap them round my head.

A nonsense rhyme for Evelyn love Grandma  ***

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 **

Bruma was a dark brown tawny cat
Who slept most of the time
On carpet or mat,
Sometimes curled up, on the settee,
Next to the baby or Evelyn maybe.

As is the way with cats,
They wake early searching for food,
So after demolishing biscuits and before the family were awake Bruma
Decided to go exploring.

Upstairs she padded on fat soft paws,
Up, and up in the quiet dawn hours.
After three flights she reached the room
Pushed the door and slowly went in.
Inside she began to purr, thought what fun
I can have in here.

The Lego room was Alex's delight,
neatly laid out with sets so bright,
Some  from the archives, others new,
Plenty of hours of playing to do.
There were houses and ships, castles and vans, stations with trains running and ancient space lands.
Boxes of bricks and fairy scenes, a perfect place for a cat to be.

The train went first off the track but Bruma could not lift it back, so on the floor it did stay,
All the people in array.
On top shelf houses tall with gardens and patios and cars to the fore.
Along the roofs Bruno did step
Peeped through the windows
But suddenly stopped,
Down fell a house onto the ground,
All the Lego bits scattered around,
Started to get a bit afraid,
So Bruma decided to disengage,
Downstairs she went quick as a mouse,
Fast asleep in a trice.
Never again did Bruma dare
To venture into the Lego lair.

Love Grandma Mary ***

Kisses weren't apples
But the feel of liquid
Holding on to time
Stretching out desire
To the end of completeness.

Love Mary

The tide came in and beached our feet
Surrounded then with sharps and stones
Our clothing wetted and sand filled
Long plaits dipped in the salty green.

The sea swishes and swirles its bubbles
Deep orche the slippery seaweed floats
Waves luxurious wigglets top the depth
Watch we did in awe and felt the swell.

Love Mary ***

We had a  game on a train
Two stops far enough apart
For art .

Love Mary ***

The sea a sheet of molten gold,
Shimmering under a fiery sky,
The beach was deserted,
Sailing craft secured against the night tide,
Carefully built sandcastles awaited their obliteration,
A few seagulls picked over picnic wrappings,
I stood, alone, as the the sun dropped below,
Allowing the darkness over the horizen,
It was the end of another wonderful day,
And I felt full of gratitude for the chance of being born.

Love Mary **

When in my thirties whist reading philosophy books
Had this big discussion I called non- space,
In a pub in London with Ian  Pinda and a few
Family  members I'm  not sure who.

Talked about existence and how to escape
Into this place we called non-space
Alex jumped their first with his yellow book
Many years later he finally understood.

Lizzie did it her way with a humour at hand
Made the people laugh, sometimes quite outland
Katie stayed at home against all the norms
Found her own non- space in the palm of her hand.

Vicky went out gliding she  took the slippery slopes
She ended up in Watford with Thyme and a rope
To all those who try reach out for the sky
Find places hidden from other bidder's eyes.

I say well done to you the effort was worthwhile
Don't dig ditches in other peoples styles.


Love to my creative family from Mother Mary ,Grandma ***

"It is time to go to bed my dear".
I turn towards him in my
Plain cotton nightdress.
"Shall I comb your hair
My love, it is all batterered
From the day's excursions."
I feel the comb gentle in
His hands, his warm
Breathing on my face.
That tender touch
Before nightfall.
A connection of body
And soul. Stilled together.
Enfolded in a simple task.
The tidying of a fringe.

Love Mary ***

Evelyn and Mary and Janet,
Florence and Anna and Grace,
We're six little girls,
Inhabiting a different space:-
Evelyn born in London,
In 2014,
Mary south of the river in 1952,
Janet came from America, Florence
Somewhere in Stroud,
Anna rather special,
And Grace an eldest child.

To be continued .

Love Mary ***

Evelyn has got new shoes
Does not know what to do
Do not feel like her socks
So Evelyn took them off.


Mary x



Happy 1st  Birthday Darling
Granddaughter, big hug and kiss
Love Grandma x

Oscar, so it's  Summer,
School ends for lost boys
And errant masters, alike,
Skipping out the doors
Books still in cupboards left
Football shed untidy
With lost socks
And punctured *****
Old paintings
Cling to the walls
Flapping blue-tac ends in
Open window jam wind.

So what will you do
In the holiday, grandson?
Write me a poem
Of your own growing
Make it strong so it belongs
To tradition, whatever that
Means from your perspective.



Look forward to it ,Oscar
Love Grandma
Second version .

love Mary

Please forgive me for leaving
It was not meant to be
I really did not want to
Had so much more to do
All the people I learnt from
Those that I loved
I'm sorry I had no choice.

Love Mary ***

She lost her son did my friend Pam
Took her with him in his arms
His possessions in the garden shed
His words and gestures in her head.

Met her often we’d talk of him
How handsome the boy, clever within
She spent her days collecting litter
Bits of silver paper from the gutter.

Went to Art school to sooth her pain
Painted the same picture over again
Found in an image reflected in glass
That boy, her life, in circles of light.

For Pam and Stephen.
Love Mary x

What does one forget with years
Is it the exactitude of ordered days?
The way slippers slowly wear out
And don’t get replaced until xmas.

I rarely comb my hair before midday
Or open the packages at the door box
The future goes under the bed to sleep
The past a comforting scarf red striped.

Love Mary ***

The tears of the world are a constant quality .Samual Beckett.
Talking of his mother he said.I am what her savâge loving has made me.


Love Mary