You are born in this world.

Born to a mother and father.

Born to be a son or a daughter.

The mould is set.

Your gender announced to the world.

Like permanent ink on a banner.

Its a boy! ,Its a girl!

Its a baby!

You learn to toddle.

Pretty pink delicate things,

Are given as gifts.

But you’d rather play...

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My book. 

    Prejudice and Pride by Katie Haigh
Link: http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1849918635

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My Granddad passed away just before Christmas, this is for him.

Time whispers
Fleeting, it escapes us
You were a part of our world
A smile cemented
in childhood memories
You were a card playing companion
Intrigued by technology
And the new world it opened
I remember your CD player
You were proud as punch
As it was mounted on the wall
And opened with a wave
I remember Christmas ...

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Rain drops drip

On dustpan lids

Drip drop, drip drop

Creating a rhythm

With every splash

Trickling down flower petals

On window pane

Moving smoothly

Following their own beat

Making people feel

Hear

And look at their beauty

Even if people moan

They cannot stop

The drip drop, drip drop

Raindrop beat

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Control Food

I don’t know when it started
When food became an issue
I remember how life was
I was diagnosed as dyslexic
After my Mum sent me for a private test
Although the School didn’t want to accept it
They didn’t want to help
Budget issues, staffing and resources
Excuses, excuses, excuses
My Mum fought their disbelief
Craving the help and guidance I needed
I heard...

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Ashleigh Haigh, my daughter, age 10 and I have been published in a book made from a local project, involving Cartwheel arts Tell us Another One and Joy Winkler. The book ", a childrens book, My Magic Pen" are available from Cartwheel arts and will be in local libraries e.g. Heywood Library, Darnhill Library ect.  Ashleigh and I took part in a few of the group wrtings, My Pen is Magic, My Aunty ...

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His heart was broken

The aorta too thin

His skin tinted blue

His body fragile and thin

He wouldn't grow normal

Not like the other babies did

He needed an operation

He was only 9 weeks of age

I couldn't console him

With the breast milk he craved

He was nil by mouth

In the pre-operative stage

When it came to carry him to theater

I thought my hea...

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