Morning (2018-27)

The breath of the morning

Escaping from the night

Reaching out for freedom

Like darkness bleeding light

That moment you wake me

And bring me back to life

Each day a beginning

A chance to do it right

Morning (2018-27)

Look (2018-26)

I’m not meant to look

So I closed my eyes

But I could still hear

The chill in those cries

The wind blew my hair

The cold scratched my cheek

The screams and the howls

The pounding of feet

I don’t want to look

I don’t want to know

The cold turns to heat

I just want to go

Somewhere far away

Asleep in my bed

Is that where I am?

It’s just in my head?

I take a deep breath

I open my eyes

Prepared for the look

But not for the light

Look (2018-26)

Choices (2018-23)

What would a rhino like to be?
Given the choice,
What would it choose?
Would it be a pilot?
Flying around the world?
What would a squirrel like to be?
Given the choice,
What would it choose?
Would it be a cowboy?
Riding on the range?
What would a tiger like to be?
Given the choice,
What would it choose?
Would it be a doctor?
Saving people and lives?
What would a magpie like to be?
Given the choice,
What would it choose?
Would it be a diver?
Diving down for pearls?
And what would you like to be?
You have the choice.
What will you choose?
Choices (2018-23)

Jumper (2018-22)

Maybe I’m weird (I could just stop there), but I quite like washing. Of all the household chores, this is one I enjoy the most. It’s not just the actual washing; I find the whole end to end process quite satisfying. I start by emptying the wash basket and splitting the contents into loads: whites, dark coloured, light coloured, towels (including cloths) and bedding. I’m quite pragmatic about greys (or grays for our American readers) and categorise them as dark or light coloured depending on shade and/or volume. Then into the washing machine: extra hot for towels and bedding, hottish for whites and darks, then cool for coloureds. If it’s nice weather (about 4 weeks a year) I dry them on the line (pegging them in groups: tops, trousers and skirts, underwear, socks), otherwise they’re in the tumble dryer. Then ironing to finish (normally only work or “going out out” clothes).

There are certain things I wash every week. It’s mainly work stuff, but there are a few favourites as well. Like your jumper. It’s the one you bought at DisneyWorld. That was 6 years ago. 6 years! I only know that, because it says the year under the Disney logo on the front, so don’t be thinking I’m counting the days.

You used to keep leaving that jumper here. You’d take it off while we watched a film and I’d find it on the back of a chair after you’d gone home. I always wore it until the next time you came around; breathing in the echoes of your after shave while it kept me warm. They say smell is the most evocative of our senses and it let me imagine you were there while I waited for your next visit.

Then those visits became rarer and the scent started to fade, but it was never quite gone. And you were always able to top it up. Eventually.

Until you stopped coming around.

Your essence lingered in the material as the days turned into weeks, but when those weeks turned into a month I found myself putting it on the light coloured pile. As I folded it after taking it out of the tumble dryer, I briefly inhaled, but now it smelt of softener (and lily of the valley was never going to remind me of you).

Now it sits in the airing cupboard, on the fleece, hoodie and jumper shelf, but I still end up wearing it most weeks. In a way, lily of the valley does now remind me of you, but I’ve realised I don’t need smells to help me remember. It’s like that day we went to Hastings and walked around the battlefield (isn’t it actually in Battle?). As we followed the tour I could imagine the battle; it seemed that those memories were somehow in the ground and the air of that place, although it was almost a thousand years ago. I can’t see your jumper lasting a thousand years, it’s already starting to fray, but it can still bring you back, even if only for a few minutes, and that’s sometimes all I need.

Jumper (2018-22)

Declarations (2018-21)

I want your love to be a breath

In the middle of the night

A whispered promise in my ear

When you think that I’m asleep

I need a touch that calms my soul

And keeps all my fears at bay

A hand that reaches out to me

Keeping me away from harm

Don’t promise me the moon and stars

Or write my name in the sky

Just sit here with your hand in mine

Watching Bargain Hunt with me

Love isn’t loads of vacations

Love is the days spent at home

It’s falling asleep in your arms

Waking to find I’m still there

Declarations (2018-21)