‘It was my borage’, said the woman
Seemingly in extreme surprise
That he wanted it.
It was their Wedding Anniversary day
Thé 21 st of May
Forty nine years ago
As usual peace
Smiled on
In the fridge.

Love Mary ***

Everyday you kissed me goodbye
In your blue candlewick dressing gown,
The cat rushing out of the door
In his hurry for freedom.

A peck on both cheeks and a spoken phrase,
Always remembered till this day,
"Rather be late than the late",
I waved back till you closed the door.

Love to my Mother ,Grace Emily Westbrook.***

Ate holes in my heart
It was humble in the way
Quality without exuberance
Maintains.
There was a slight flap at the bottom
Below which showed your tanned
Stockings and low heeled brogue shoes.
You left my house after tea to be home
Before nightfall where my father
Would meet you at the bus stop.
Your greying hair cut short in waves
Peeped from under a headscarf.
I walked you to the path where
No longer were you in sight
As you turned a bend onto the
Main road to catch your bus.
At this point I felt every texture
Of your tweed coat, its solidity,
I longed to hide inside and get
On that bus returning with you
Forever.

Love Mary **

Her name is that
Of past hours
From days of power
And magnificence
When marble busts
Were cast
To satisfy
The desire
For eternity.

But this little beauty
Will not end her days
In  lofty halls
With locked and barred doors
The dust settling on her hair
For she will be suspended
Captured and rendered
On all the screens
That can be seen
From phone to
The Internet
And global websites
Printed texts.

Her name is Delphi
Youngest child
Full lipped star
Hair falling long
Over her arms
Eyes dark under
Arched brows
Peachy cheeks
Tanned skin
In the princess dress
She loves the best
From Asda or Primark.

To my lovely Delphi of the dollies love from Grandma xxxxx

If I was to wear a bikini
Red and orange it would be
With elastic underneath my chest
And below my waist certainly.

I’d pretend the settee was a diving board
And the armchair a ship on the seas
And travel up and down the stairs
With my long seaweed coloured hair.

Love to Constance from Grandma

Xxxxx

He collects his bag
Catches the bus
Returning with two items
From town centre.

Tomorrow; gardener,
Lady sort.
First gardener in fifty years
Mowing grass, bush cutting.

He wonders how far
He has come after that call
Stating changes
The dust settles slowly.

Love Mary xxxx

I suppose parties could be fun
Dressed up all prettily by Mum
Present in hand here we stand
On the front step
Like in the Ladybird book.

The door opens into Jane’s world
Hand over your coat to someone.
Down the linoleum hallway,
Into the front room of delights
Dropped handkerchief on floor.

Two cut - out books for party girl
She’s opening my sparkly cat card
The one with a feather and pearls
The paper piles up on a chair
Susan’s mother announces tea.

They give you this
To hide
The pain
That hacks the brain.

And all the blame
Of man disdained,
Dismounted.

The blight on the rose
Hesitated, grey dust
Mildewed, mated.

The cabinet makers’
Opened the latch
Threw the petals in.

Love Mary **

Down the isles of wooden trestles
Set out in a quietly painted hall
The children look for the familiar.
Things, lost, things from loved sets
Pieces remembered and missed.
Clutching small change and a bag
They roam, searching the emptying
Surfaces in the hope of recovering.

Some children are selective buying little
Only the important objects that inspire
An unusual fossil, book on ammonites.
A collection of perfect My Little Ponies.
Then the scrambler children who stuff bags
To overflowing with excited assortments
Picked almost at random for a chance
Their to be explored strewn across kitchen
Table with an audience of friends.

There was always a late arrival just as doors
Were about to close and tea hatch latched.
As crowds diminished, looking became easier
Finding that magic dropped on the floor.

Love Mary x

The grass yellow topped wet winter
Separates forming trodden pathway
Between overhanging bare branches
A child might squeeze cautious now
The damp clings like crystal pearls
Through we peep.

Love Mary ***

The Paddling Pool.

Leaves decorate its surface
Like tiny bobbing boats,
Hands swish the clear water
Against a background of blue paint;
Tips of seedheads from the Sycamore trees,
Float their aeroplane wings.
Always in shade
This edge of the pool
Gathers the year's dusty weather
In its gully.
Trousers rolled, skirts tucked into knickers,
The children paddle;
Not minding the stone sharps
Beneath feet.
Gritty from recent storms,
It is still a delight
Under the trees
In the evening sun.

Cassiobury Park in the 1970's
By Mary Kearns

A birthday to remember

Today I'm three what a surprise,
We're all going for a ride,
Off to the find a secret place,
Filled with colours, a landscape,
Inside the halls are brilliant lights,
I can walk and run about,
Mummy follows close behind,
I can even hold her hand;
Then there's music from a band,
All is wonderful I do expand;
Now it's time for home and tea,
Daddy made a cake for me,
I watch the candle as it blows,
Another birthday and so it goes.
Thank you all my family,
For taking care and loving me.

Love Grandma for Evelyn ***

Happiness is hairy legs
And a crimplene skirt
Cheap sandels on a patch of sand
Favourite sky with its clouds
Egg sandwiches and cheese
A mackintosh to sit upon
An old sunhat
The peace which is this day
Uninterrupted love.

Never found you in the daybreak
As it splintered, separating sparks
I stayed, waving at the end
With nothing to give but
The cold Winter heart.

For all the days I lived with you
In our house under tiled roof
And leaded light windows
Making oblong shapes move
I so very much loved you.

Mary xxxx

How beautiful the hours between
You and me when our histories talk
Now you flourish in your evening
And I find the country girl cutivating
The fields of youth’s treasured times.

Love Mary xxxx

Where did it come from that perpetual silence,
Hanging in the air becoming thought,
The birds knew it before the dawn calling,
And embracing lovers touched by a first kiss,
Perhaps in the waiting there are moments

Love Maryx

Out of the door past the flowering Camelia
And barely bursting rose buds
The white hellebores with their
Down turned eyes
And swaying narcissus
I run to catch them all
As they scatter the road
With their dancing
Tripping in and out of rhythm
With each other
Throwing ***** across
To catch,
The wind gathers them up
To the park entrance
Our lovely park
Green with many trees
I reach them at last
We float down the avenue
Linking arms with
A child's pleasure
We are here
All together
Forever.

Love Mary **

Daddy got ill whilst making a cake
An Easter cake for Easter Day
He bent his tummy and said ouch
And to the hospital had to go.

His family was very worried
To see sick daddy in pain
His appendix had to come out
Outside it began to rain.o,

At ten o’clock they wheeled him down
To pop out his grisly tummy bone
Sewn back together neat and bright
He was soon to be driven home.

For days his poor throat was ever so sore
He could hardly talk
All swollen down the Ulvula
Could not but mutter a word.

Evelyn said she would take great care
Of her daddy whilst he was sick
Gradually his throat got better
And he began to talk and do tricks.

Love Grandma, Mum.

I told you yes when I meant no
I told you a lie about caring so
I told my dad I was shy
That you unkind
I began to cry.

He met the boy
And told him why
I did not turn up
He told a lie
Now is time to tell the truth
I'm sorry
I misunderstood
What was right
And what was strong
Not to tag you along.

You had one bad eye
And I was scared
I was uncomfortable
I am aware
So please forgive
It was me was blind
Sorry that I was so unkind.

Love Mary

I took the left path where hydrangeas grew and sleepy primroses under woods edged shady trees.
The empty stream ran quietly dry
With grass cuttings piling high.
If one peeped, would find tiny creatures of delight.
To cast a sparkle here and there, a delight.
So on tip-toe, with sandels bent
Up high I reached to take
The plastic fairy as she twirled a pirouette
In a theatre made by chance.
Reflected in a silver mirror intwinned with ivy branch
A mottled foal tends his dreams and Chrismas robin chirps.

My brother took the right hand path where thetrees grew fruit
Ripe berries from the gooseberry bush bulged their prickles
Dangling from hawthorn now a cowboy with a hat
Looking for his fellow Indian with the yellow back sack.
Sheep gather in a hollow, dark, protected from the sun
And Mr toad, now lost of paint, has turned a bit glum.

And so we leave our woodland friends and travel up the *****
Winding round the rose bed and goldfish where they float.
Then up we climb, the middle route, to jump the pruned clipped
Hedge.
The lawn divided in two halves, a contemporary taste.

Now we're nearly at that place where if one was to turn
Could see down across the land
To the sea and sand.
Of all the beauties that I've known
Nothing beats this Island home.

Love Mary x

Evelyn whispers to her plastic cats
That they are all girls
The boys come in sheep and piglets
And hide under cardboard, gravelling.
She likes to crunch the kittens into
One section of the many
In the title play case
“Kitty in my pocket”
That I bought her.

Love Grandma ***

We sit together collecting,
Gathering out thoughts into
A permanence that will last
Stroking them as we neaten
Each flat with our kisses
They hold our beginning
And roll up our end
For though we were
And evermore maybe
I must go
And you must stay
To look after the garden
That I made.

Love Mary ***

The wind it blows, cold.
Or southerly lightly with warmth
That comforts the soul
Fixes clothes to knees and teases
Those holiday boys or dreamers
Marilyn did it best on skyscraper
In black and white we sigh
How lovely a sight
We all can admire.

Then in far off lands
The wind it tumbles things
Pulling down mountains
Fracturing streams
It hinders the finding of people
Its  brutality knows no ends.

The quiet wind I love the best
That whispers round corners
Sways the washing on the line
Filling pots with seeds
And rocks the cradle in the tree
Until the baby sleeps.

Love Mary x

Stop it sister keep bending your toes
They will be all crooked don’t you know
Where are you shoes, silver like mine?
And pink socks with bows at the top
Stop it sister keep bending your toes.

Love big sister .
Xxxxx

She was that child of my son’s
Facing me each morning
Two hundred miles distant
Through a glass screen iPad
To start the morning hour.

Asking me her, grandma Mary,
‘What shall we talk about now’
Alex’s voice. Shouting Reading
So  she spoons breakfast cereal
And turns the pages of Peter and Jane.

Bouncing about in the early lighting
Against a wall of coloured drawings
On a blue wooden chair with aprons
Filling that loquacious mouth to the brim
Using uncommon words in her speeches
And cuddling ‘Rainbow’ her stuffed rabbit.

Love grandma Mary

And perhaps only childhood
Nailed me to the cross
Standing in the brilliance
Believing what was good.

Now thoughts just embers
Ashes fallen flames
And bend to sweep the dust
Of those promises broken again.

Love Mary x

"Catch up",I said, "Catch up",
But it was he always trailing
Dragging those new shoes
Though they were sand paper
Until the toes nothing but
Dust.
Then the new top itched
Like a foreign skin
So you punctured it
Stretching and pulling
Until the zip almost
Popped.
What were you brother
So angry and gaged?
You grew up to be
An amazing parent.
Better than I.

Although I wore my best wings
Which took me as fast as light
And though I ran trembling
All through the night
Even if I called your name
I knew you could not hear
The distance was too difficult
More than any words.

So taking from my back
I put down my wings
Picked up a flower
And we began to sing
Saw in this beauty
All that you were
But just could not
Get to you, anymore.

Love Mary x

Take the meadow walk
Where briar and roses meet
And blackberries travel
And little children’s feet.

Where the ground is dappled
And the sky is bare
Letting bits of sunlight
In, here and there.

Love Mary ***

Let winter be me in harvest fairy breast
No dipping of moon to touch the sky
For undo I can’t the flower and bud
And shallow in my journey do fly .

By Mary ***

I’m going to be a diamond
Encrusted in gold
A piece of costume jewellery
Bought cheaply on the bold
It won’t be worth anything
But to hold a pretty wrap

Life follows this pattern
Dangling treasures in our wake
That afterwards mean nothing
But hold our namesake

A piece of broken glass
Glinting in the sun
The skeleton of a leaf
Unnoticed by some
Many a pretty thing
Lasts longer in our dreams.

Love Mary ***

The Footfalls of Memory



Time present and time past
Are both perhaps present in time future,
And time future contained in time past.
If all time is eternally present
All time is unredeemable.

What might have been is an abstraction
Remaining a perpetual possibility
Only in a world of speculation.
What might have been and what has been
Point to one end, which is always present.

Footfalls echo in the memory
Down the passage which we did not take
Towards the door we never opened
Into the rose-garden. My words echo
Thus, in your mind.

By TS Elliot

The cave paintings show us
Art and imagination
Are essential to our being to our health.
To our ability to empathise with others
To be able to show joy in the world around us.
Without our imagination being used we
Create a world of violence , inhumanity
And cruelty.
Just the way it is going today .
Bring back art in schools
For the freedom of our people.

Love Mary ***

Thank you Anthony Gormley
For your programme .

Love Mary ***

We live in a territorial state
Where doctor’s receptionist
Wear chainmail and carry axes
To save guard their sovereigns
From interference.

Responses  sound like an offensive
Battling against imprisonment
I am polite, ask kindly
Tread lightly.

I am a poor, weak patient
I pay for your services
We are unequal as I am ill
You are healthy and fit.

What has happened
To make you so unkind
Disrespectful, blind
Your turn will come .

Love Mary .

Went to stay in London when I was but a child
Stayed with my Aunty Betty always a bit wild
Put me in a bedroom that smelt of soap and lace
Decorated in liliac, that was the latest taste.
Sat in the front room overlooking the street
Books on the painters displayed very neat
Listened to the classics,  music I'd never heard
Sipped percolated coffee, never said a word.

By the grand piano a table of pretty shells
A collection from holidays in Corsica and Wales
Where there was a fireplace stood a new gas fire
Above it a reprint of Van Gogh's sunflowers
Lunch in the kitchen with a room filled with light
Yellow painted walls to keep everything bright
Plastic chairs from Heels the strings made a ridge
Susie Cooper tea cups soup with crusty bread.

Salad in a basket black pepper to add
Ice cream for pudding I was really glad
Ate all my dinner then to the garden went
Under the Willow together on a creeky bench
Wondered round the garden, listened to church bells
Thought this an unusual life no children to tell
I loved my Aunty Betty the stories she would spell
Of places on Greek Islands, her boyfriend as well.

John was a teacher, literature of course
He wrote lengthy poems and took photographs
They went to the theatre the ballet and special films
They lived not together but an hours dream
John in the country Betty in the town
Was simply perfect for them to get around
I looked at all her photos when Betty was young
The ones with her sister who also was my mum.
Although they were different alike in many ways
They both chose the sweet life but felt the other's sway
My mother had two children with little money to spare
Betty had not got any so that made her rare.

They both died at eighty their influence great
Thank you Grace and Betty you both have your place.


Love Mary daughter and niece **

Somewhere out in the countryside
Two roses are waiting to bloom
To put out their green leaves
On bright new stems.

Later as Summer warms flower heads
Sumptuous colour will spread and spread
And make a scented spectacle
Better by far they have their hour.

Love Mary ***

They dipped in Serpentine with shoes
The leaves of Autumn sail side up
And children, four, remember now
In pleasure, wind swept, hair filled days.

Love Mary xxxx

If I ever stood at the bottom
I got no answers
If I went to the highest
I got no answers
I met  with cruelty,
Indifference,
The dregs of human reasoning
Spread out on a conference table
To be dissected,
So the verdict
Went to the powerful
And the frail
Dropped in a ditch
To be washed by ***** rain.

Love Mary x

I know a little girl
Who lives down a lane,
In a house made of brick,
With white window frames.

She is waiting for her sister,
To be born very soon,
Someone to play with,
She'll be over the moon.

Her name is Evelyn,
Mary, Janet Granger- Kearns,
Quite a long name,
To remember and understand.

Evelyn loves her Piggles,
A soft cuddly pig,
She takes him everywhere,
He is ever so good.

A little girl of sunbeams,
With a halo of gold,
Someone oh so special,
She always says 'Hello'.

Love Grandma **

It was Sunday, Mum away
The weekend holiday
Choosing ‘a no added sugar dress’
With its diagonal stripes
Break dancing like joins
A symbol of 60s voguing.

Evelyn down loads a drawing programme
On her IPad and
begins to inhabit
The kitchen table
With colourful trolls
Florence her sister is two and a half
With a head full of curls and twirly skirt
Herself two and half years older.

Love Grandma Mary

We fell about laughing as if it was yesterday
Scraping the tea stains from the sink
With glorious soapy bubbles.
Handsome returned from his park walk
Holding his diary like a black bible
Going over the weather details
As any diligent meteorologist.
By now the sun had risen to its peak
Giving out heat to two blind mice
Sitting together on a waste bin
Unable to sing as their batteries
Now lay useless inside.
Dinner was salad and fish
Followed by a bag of chocolate raisins
In hard to open cellophane.
It had not always been like this
But now only the essentials
Of posting a letter
Took over time .


Love Mary xxxx

No we won’t go
Not to the island
For there fair flowers
Left early
And what was
Never is again
Or ever shall be.

Love Mary x

My last try to tell you
Far out I touch your hair
The greyness bleeds into mine
Long fingers dance the computer
How can you know
As you sit I wonder
Thinking your game
How can I tell you
I am sorry that I have to
Go.

My love nestles your neck
Your forehead my table
Under each ear our lives
I am sorry
How can I tell you
Goodbye.

Love  Mary ***

Poor little lies
Why do you start
Getting in the way
Of truth’s beauty
Sitting in people’s mouths
Sticking to teeth
Eating away at freedoms
You are loved irresponsible
And used increasingly
Breaking trust
Destroying integrity
Poor little lies
Can’t always hide.

Love Mary x

Flowered cotton smocked dress
And winter’s cerise woven coat
From Top Shop with its cheap belt
And front covered zip encased me.

As did your long arms and pink shirt
And together we stood at the bar
My heart lips of wine and your mouth
And you filled with brown beer.

Love Mary x for Roger.

The journey made together
was  from unusual parts
Not described in travel journals
Or found on catalogue displays

Listening as it did to hardships
Courage and the wings of a dove
Sweeping the gauntlet of choice
Honour and the white stars above.

Love Mary ***

Optimism and pessimissism
A binary opposition
Unsuited to this world
Must change our way of thinking.

Use needs to be more particular
More sensitive
More refined
Find a better word kind.

Love Mary ***

The Camelias think it is Spring
One white bud ,two red
Daffodils lift a head
And the aconites
Shower a golden ring
And yet last years hollyhocks
Still in leaf ,promising flowers.
The skies are overcast
The air damp and crisp
Inside my window
I notice the change
It is January 2018.

Love Mary **

Oh my pretty one you sit so still
Not a wiggle or a shuffle
Even in the chill
Your coat is red
Hat white fur
My baby bunnykins
The miles we saw.

Love Mary x

Daisy got up early
Just as the day began
Clipped in her earrings
Combed her brown hair
Put on the clothes
At the bottom of the bed
Looked in the mirror, quickly,
Then went and got fed.
The breakfast room was cosy
All the family there
They all shared cornflakes
Burnt toast in the air
Then time for coat on
And run up the road
Working for the people
The ones she does not know
A good person is Daisy
Found what she's about
Writing gave her a mission
To fight others' plight.


Love Grandma ***