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

I never had a letter from you,
Always wanted one,
Asked myself who would you be,
Someone else's son,
If you used letters,
Spaced on a page,
Would I know you better,
Or different in some way,
You wrote to your mother,
And you sister, too,
Did they both see, another side of you.
I always wanted a letter,
To hold in my hand,
To arrive through the letter box,
All bright and grand;
But now it seems too late,
We have said all our words,
But still I'd like a letter,
My sweetheart, my man.

Love to my Roger who I have known for 49 years.Love you forever darling boy.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 .

Poetry is my friend ,
It lends to me a library,
One unknown and unread,
Untutored there to be said,
A simple line or many verse
Discovering sentiments
I can converse.

Love Mary ***

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 ***

The words were deviously writ
With good hid well behind the line
And faithfully did fly the woods
To run the gauntlet and despise.

Love Mary **

Every time you berate me
You show how little
You have learnt in this life
I feel sorry for you
That wisdom did not
Find you but love did.

Love Mary xxxx

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 **

I see you along the river banks
Dipping those black shoes in wet
Whisking the wild flowers pinks
And mauve with Florence hiding.

It is a bit of wasteland decorated
And an old church wall and ivy
You play and sing imagining all
Where did you come from littlest.

Love Grandma ***

Always to the left she was
Behind in age to her sister
Grace, Emily Westbrook
Second set in class, the Bs.

Being younger meant she
Did her exams a year later
Went to Brownies a year later
But Betty Rose married first.

Love Mary ***

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 ***

When things are hyperthetical
It is the realisation that all
Can only be gained through
The rawness of the clasping
Of experience in the poetry
That is gleamed in our words.

Love Mary ***

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

Love Mary x

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

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 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 **

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 elderly women she stooped
Waiting at the letter box for a letter
Which always failed to come.
It was an imaginary letter
This one letter she wanted.
A love letter from someone she knew.
A person she loved in her life,
Who lived near her, inside.
But in her mind she knew it would
Not say enough.
Not feel who she was, her kind.
Not rejected but unknown.
A life unknown but for glimpses.
When a friendly face at the bus stop
Noticed in her smile a direction.
She understood this to be the truth
For most of us.
And comforted by such thoughts
Returned to the daylight.

Love Mary ***

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

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

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

Where is that girl,
The one that comes,
To visit her grandma,
Even if it's not fun,
She sits by my side,
And makes me laugh,
I feed her sweeties,
Out of my jar,
Daisy I thank you,
Your voice ever wise,
Your face full of beauty,
You'll always be kind,
To those less fortunate,
For now and all time.

Love You ,Thank You .
From Grandma ***

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

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 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 ***

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 ***

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 ***

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 ***

The London road is tree lined
Privet hedges and brick walls
With cast iron railing half way.

You stand mouth down turned
Yellow plastic butterfly in hand
In your ‘no added sugar stripe’.


A heart dripped out of you at the
Red painted door and Geranium
Moving is hard to say goodbye.

Love Grandmaxx

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

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

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 ***

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

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 **

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 **

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

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

Four strange people stand in a line
Pulling funny faces, turning a blind eye
I wonder who they are
I never knew
Lived on a hillside
In a cottage or two.

One played with sarcasm
Used it every day
Thought it very clever
Was in a strange way
Its significance unimportant
Could not even see
That lies were filling the holes in the wood.

The fool was insatiable
For all things combustible
Black bags outside
Always ajustable
There was psychedelic wallpaper
In rolls everywhere
The cats repatriated.

The crazy optimist thought it true
Played with cheque cards
Lined up in a que
Always in London
In spite of themself
The trousers too expensive for size.


Lastly the collector of funds
Father been a road sweeper
Could do lots of sums
Sometimes this wandererer
Found on a map
A paradyn for contagious frogs.

Four strange people stand in a line
I think I knew them better from behind!

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 .