Dearest Dad ,I am sitting in my house thinking of you and how we would watch the cricket together on our small black and white television.I never really understood the rules but just liked being close.Then we would watch an old film or Western.You taught me about the famous film stars that you liked and the great singers.Mum would bring in tea and biscuits ,calling , '*****, nice cup of tea'.
I had wonderful parents, a great generation of people building a better country after the Second World War.

My father Eric, William ,Henry ,Ayton- Robinson and my mother Grace. Emily Ayton- Robinson ( née Westbrook)
You both always did your best for me and I thank you.

Love Mary xxxx

In these silent times,
When the sun drapes its softnes,
Across bough and branch,
And birds make ready for night;
There is gathering in houses,
Conversations around tea,
An hour of revival,
As the roads quieten,
Before the coming together,
Of another day.

The last of the Summer roses
were cut today
collecting the remaining flower heads
to keep in a vase
until colour fades
and petals fall.

Love Mary

The door was ajar
I stood at the front
Screaming into the night air
Silence betrayed me.

My mother's voice disappesesred
into upstairs rooms
My brother hiding his face
Petrified I could not find her.

I continued to wait
Bearing out the coldness
In my cotton nightdress.
Until the unknown took me to bed.

In the morning there was breakfast
And a vinyl Popeye toy in the bin.
My father stayed in on Wednesdays
To prevent further trouble.

Love Mary **

Theresa was
One of those girls that turn
The classroom into a circus act.
Only have to open their mouths
And we all fell about.
Lessons were fun when she began
So much twisting round in seats.
Short words flowed
Teachers tiptoed
And she was a big girl
We were all scared
Of the night.

Love Mary

The Gardener.

He came in grey,
A favourite colour with him,
Carrying a simple bag
With toothbrush and toothpaste,
Trousers and a kneeling pad.
The day was humid and sunny.
Got to work immediately.
Moving from left to right
Along the borders,
Cutting, digging, pulling,
As only Bear knew.
Filling the green bin
To overflowing with stalks
The unwanted excess
Of a mature garden.
She watched him
Busying himself,
Never stopping for rest.
It was his habit
This workmanship.
She loved him for it.

By Mary
Thank you to our Gardener .

Evelyn

I see you as if for the first time ,
Under that shock of blonde hair ,
Hiding behind your small hand ,
Pretending not to be shy.

Eyes blue as sapphire gems ,
Sparkle in the afternoon light.
I feel your quiet thinking
Filling the space with words.

You hear our conversation,
And stay inside to explore.
But I know you are listening
Making sense of this world .

Lots of love from Grandma ***

It is an ordinary Tuesday morning
The walkers regular in their time
Carrying shopping bags
On their way to the supermarket.

It is that gap between the old and new
When people buy bargains in shops
Left over items, later to be discarded
Or sold on eBay or local based sites.

But this Tuesday will have no ending
That can be rejoiced in the roadways
For it ends with a goodbye as I slide
To Spring in a bare cardboard coffin.

Love Mary **

Nothing will replace you,
The woman who gave me birth,
Your genes dance in me,
As genius or curse.

My love for you is endless,
Like a rippling stream,
It meanders in my heart,
Échos in my dreams.

I can still feel your touch,
The comb in my hair,
Holding my hand,
When nobody was there.

I recall your voice,
Clear as a bell,
Soft and gentle,
Wishing me well.

So , mother dear,
Know my love for you,
Always resides,
In a pocket or two.

In remembrance of my lovely Mother Grace Emily Ayton-Robinson

Ruby.

You are my Meadow Madonna,
Painted in front of a hill,
And Masaccio's Beauty,
Sitting upon a throne.
Bellini settled you in a landscape,
Drapery behind in gold;
Sassetta named you
'Mother of Humility',
As the baby held your gown.
But you, my beautiful, Ruby,
Carry your mother's child,
Your 8th sibling, a sister,
Proudly in your arms.

Love to Ruby and Bluebell
November 2017
Love Grandma ***

Becoming a man

The walk had been quieter than usual
Both hid our courage inside
We held hands as always
Yours small and soft
With a Panda in the other.

The gates appeared only too quickly
I handed you your satchel
You did not cry though I did
In the warm you looked up at me
And said 'Goodbye Mummy'.

I knew you were then a man
Taking the lead, going first,
That moment clings to me
Cherished for its bravery
My one and only son.

Love Mum xxxx

I climbed out of the day
Switching off the light
In the gloomy twilight
Never forgotten
How the sadness
Broke my soul
For as the sparrow saw
Birds die quietly
And my feathers were broken
The heart now lonely
And you who can
Remember.

Love Mary Mum Grandma ***

I just wanted to say
That I have never met anyone
Quite like you,
Never heard your voice,
Sometimes get confused with you
But always come back to you,
You are both goodness and yourself
As we all are.


Love Mary x

So let me tell you,
about my friend,
Very different,
From other men,
Lives in a cottage,
On the end,
Sails his boat,
On the Norfolk coast,
All alone,
Under the thatch,
Plays the piano,
Watches a match,
This man,
Whose name is John,
Met a lady,
When he was young,
Turned out to be,
My very special,
Aunty B.

Love Mary ***

Be thy on the corner
The day after tomorrow
Watching.
The days will
No longer be the same
And your love free
To travel other streets
That I will never know.

Love Mary **

The reeds in the river bed,
Know it is Spring,
There is lightness in footsteps,
And the birds sing,
But far out in the meadow,
A little girl cries,
For something she lost,
And never could find.

Love Mary **

There are no words today
My heart lies in two
Can't suture the wound.

Love Mary x

A woman walks to her post office
In her hand she holds a parcel
In the parcel there is a present
The present is for a far off friend.

On the way open Winter jasmine
Its flowers and bud bright lemon
Celebrate in the spruce green leaf
A nativity scene stands on a shelf.

Love Mary **

You may be born in some unsightly shed,
Or in a hospital bed,
On the floor on all fours,
Wanted, planned and loved,
A wicker cradle for your bed,
A mistaken holiday plan,
Left in a station van,
Fed with a tube
Or breast, if best,
Cuddled, coiled
Wrapped in sheets,
But however it is
You are complete.


With love to all new babies.
Mary ***

A new *** started its journey
A journey towards becoming
Unknown and unfounded
The artists layed out palette.
Love Mary **

Mother of mine.

I hold onto the door frame,
The scullery a small addition
Where you cook , mangle the clothes,
And wipe steam from the windows.
I am always seeking you out,
Talking endlessly about your life,
The loss of your mother,
As a child of seven, and boarding school.
The kitchen is adjacent,
It is our space for eating
The red Formica table set out
With mats and cutlery.
In the corner a boiler for the water,
Difficult to light.
So many times, on bended knees, with a sheet of newspaper and matches
You tried.
Coal dust on your hands.
How patience you were,
My mother.
I remember your hands
Rough from soap powder and the cold.
The simple wedding band.
In the kitchen cupboard drawer
You took out a small zipped bag,
Cherry red lipstick, rouge and powder,
A quick splash to welcome
The man you loved.
Mother you were splendid .

Love Mary xxxx

The gardener came to clear the moss,
Which had gathered under pots,
Beneath benches,
And along the side of walls,
On hands and knees,
He chiselled away,
Scrubbing with water,
Until that concrete gleamed
In the late afternoon sun.
The grass mowed,
Yellowed in the heat.
He sat down;
A short break,
Before returning
To the clearing,
Of the moss.

  

Love Mary and thank you ,Ian

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 ***

Watching the wooden slating,
Where window met sill,
Saw spiders creeping,
Under a full moon,
Owls hooted in the distance,
And the smell of country air
Seeped in amongst fresh sheets.

Our annual holiday on the Island,
Taking it in turns for top bunk,
And first for the bathroom,
Sitting on nylon deck chairs,
Eating cornflakes from a plastic bowl,
This was heaven looking back,
Unless it rained all week.

Thank you Mum and Dad

You stand in front of me
Little boy
A face so gentle and intent
On telling me about your day
With head tipped to one side
You tell me stories with your eyes
Slowly in you quiet notes
So I not miss a sentiment
Stories you like to write
About animals and life
With long expansive words
You always will be heard
A writer you'd like to be
Someone special
We shall see.
Thank you
For all your words
I keep them in my heart
Well stirred.

With love to Monty from Grandma ***

The children have finished their holiday
Packed up the tent ,paid the rent
Been to the shop for presents forgot
Awaiting the taxi to catch the train
Standing together in the pouring rain
Gazing at the patch of green
Where yesterday their belongings had been
Now no longer part of life
The playground and the roundabout
The beach with its incoming tides
The chips and funny seaside rides
Saying goodbye is not much fun
Friendships made, places to eat
Treading new ground under feet.
Holidays open ones eyes
To adventures full of surprise
Takes one from the daily grind
Bringing hope and sunshine.

Love Mary

The last of the Summer roses
were cut today
collecting the remaining flower heads
to keep in a vase
until colour fades
and petals fall.

Love Mary

Some saw him as compassionate
A man of the cloth
Caring with tenderness his sheep
But I did not .
For me I saw an ego unsatisfied by
A childhood of expectation
Grown forgetful of his profession
By the unforgiving pull of disappointment
Such was his striving that nothing stood
In its way.
Not the virtues of religion or occupation
Laid them all down for another mark
On his cap, a token of goodness in the community.
But I could see the transparency of his gaze.
And never turned away.
But he sank in his cowardice of deceit.

Love Mary x

We would sit together
On that black vinyl settee
With the orange cushions
And stretched zips ,split.
With the light going down
Over the horizon
Across the fields
To the bay
And the small lampshade
Bringing comfort
Lit up the corner
Near the table
Where we had our teacups
And a bicuit tin,
Half empty.
We would talk
Later into the night
You in one armchair
And I near the table
Returning always
To put the world to rights;
It was better in the old days
When neighbours lent
A pint of milk
And you knew the man
Who sold broken biscuits
And there weren't so many cars
Two in most front gardens now.
Then you would be near asleep
And I ready to go too
But we continued
Talking on and off
Till by three o'clock
We had to stop.
If I could have you back.

Love to my dearest dad Eric William Henry Ayton -Robinson

You came at me running the night in,
Pink shirt, gold buttoned waistcoat,
No one knew my trembling heart,
Touching the night stars with a kiss,
The curtains letting in the morning light,
And we becoming white mountains,
Rowing into togetherness with oars of
Steel.

Love Mary to Roger xxxx

MILO.
IT'S OK.

At 13 life
Can feel
Like an empty purse
Childhood verses
Disperse
But you'd rather
Be there with your Lego
Building bridges in your mind
Places magical
And fine
Not the lessons
You are bored
Homework
Such a chore
Inside your house
You escape
Relax, collapse
Take the dog
For a walk.

When people ask
How was your day
You look at them
And say It's ok.

For my Milo , soft as a bird's wing.
It will get better . Love you my dear grandson. From Grandma ***

Poetry falls in the spaces,
When time and love decree,
That no other language,
Lets the world be free;
On the edge of something,
Spilling outwards in the wind,
Searching and chasing,
To let the letters in;
Far from our country,
Or token barred gate,
Poetry unlocks,
And we can escape.

Love Mary

You.

I touch you, only by way of passing,
Moving my hand along your sleeve,
Feeling the texture of wool.
You bow over a book,
Read quietly, hidden inside.
Kissing the smoothness of skin,
Where your hair makes a ring,
I remember how I plaited it,
Tying it up in ribbons,
Then your face in a mirror
Half smiles,
As if this intrusion was unsure.
We stand, today, wishing;
That time was left
To be able to sing;
Sheltered under
A soft wind.

For Roger Love Mary xxxx

The cards build up in layers
The entire length of my mantelpiece
I keep those of people I love in front
So on entering the room, each morning,
There are my friends waiting for me.
I find it very difficult
To throw any away
It hurts to do so,
Thank you.


Love Mary ***

I saw the children who came back yesterday
Brown as berries , hair blonde sprayed
Limbs golden tan from a week in the sun
Hearts full of lightness from this year's fun.

You brought me a present from The Old Gift Shop
The one with the window and Winstanley cats
It is a glass crystal to hang in the bright
All the colours of reflected rainbow light.

Thank you children for visiting me, today
And to my Lizzie whom I love always.

Love Mary

We went by pathways unknown,
Keeping together our arms enfold,
Such lightness your tender touch,
Seeking my company we matched;
And so it was and so it be ,
That you came to find me .

Love Mary ***

White shoes in bottom of wardrobe - wedding Roger remembered
The bridesmaid at 14
Elephant and Castle
Stretched out chewing gum
Top diving board
Lamppost
Arthur
The green badgie
Transparent
Answer to John
Sitting in the car next to you

Lightly Laden.

It had been there for a long time,
Clinging to the edges,
Waiting to be opened,
Preciousness,
Residing in space,
Between then,
And the unknown,
Hopeful.

Who dares disturb this,
Imagining,
Replacing contemplation,
With fact.
For in these weeks, months, years,
Everything that will,
Or ever could,
Is still possible.

Love Mary ***

In the woods

Because everything is useless I draw,
Finding refuge in the marks and shapes,
Discovering new friends in the woods,
Only here I am free from life's cruelty,
My imagination is my companion,
Keeping pace, holding out a hand,
This is the only love I believe in,
There at the touch of a fingertip,
Always waiting at the door for me to follow.

Mary **

Sinking

You drown me stretched out , undone
I waited so long to be me
In the undergrowth standing upright
In a wooded sonnet
You sang to me your words
I held on to the crest
Cherished, garnished by love .

Mary ***

If I am displeased it is
Not because I don’t
Love you.
It is not because
You are not kind
Or don’t try
To do what
You think is
best,
But it is
because
You were
Selflessly
Wrong.

Love Mary **

Wandering along the pathways
Cut between  the trees
Holding hands together
You in front of me
Watching for the ditches
And tree stumps bare
Shining in the Summer
In the clear warm air
Above the greenness moving
Against the cloudless blue
Birds and bees humming
Heron took and flew
Over tree and under branch
Still together in our dance
Find a clearing see the swings
Hear the children as they sing
Gather up my skirts and fly
Chase you back before I die.



Love Mary xxxx
Cassiobury Park and my family .