Biography

I write. I run poetry workshops in the community. I was awarded a highly commended poem for Angel, by HASSRA. I have been dubbed a confessional poet. I now sometimes link my writing to my spiritual teachings, study and practice. I realise how much my writing has evolved. I believe in freedom of speech and writing as a tool for healing. Also as a way of challenging evil in the world and corruption at all levels. Xx Blessings everyone xxxxx

Samples

Angel (2007) ----------- for Sylvia The firework heavens open their skies, snow falling on leaves, echoes a sweet melody, the beat of a wing is heard, through the twilight hours of days, an angel flies through the December air, embracing the rhythm of notes, ice melts with the slowing down of time, yesterdays lost in a haze of life, the stars are smiling at me tonight, God takes away whom he loved the most, leaves behind a hole to fill, candles burn in churches still, icicles form in the dead of night, the beat of a wing is heard. To be of Love (2012) ------------------- There's an edge to your voice, A sense of impatience, Somewhere between the night and the day, and the sea and the shore, I catch the truth upon my tongue, the sense of impending dawn and the taste of sea air, this truth is hard to stomach I feel like I am being punished I say, You frown, deny all truth, I drift on the Pastor's words, of sins and broken alliances, of man and woman, being joined eternally, and me from Adam's rib? Let no man part, what God has joined, I'm safe, I think inside, my vows whisphered in a gallery, with the paintings on the wall, Forgiving in their nature knowing the grey areas of life as Lowry did, of unrequited, or forbidden love, Your anger gives the game away, Protest not too much kind sir, my job is nearly done here, my gypsy heart must move on, To find the place between the sea and the shore, and the night and the day, I have another, In my dreams he lives, Sometimes he comes to me at night, lays down his weary head and weeps, with the uncertainty of life, But I no longer weep, my heart beats strong, with the truth of knowing, who I am, where I go, and whom I love, I hope one day to have the Pastor's grace, But we must all live with our own reflections, So be of love, my love, a little bit more careful than of anything, and lie not to yourself, my sweet, or the truth will dawn, with the coming of the light, and the place where we hide from ourselves in our hearts, shall quake upon the sunrise. The Ledge ( 2009) ___________ From a film which shall remain nameless If I stand on the ledge Will you stand here too? and cross the boundaries Of what is, and what isn't reality? Will you live a lifetime in a dream together But never wake up And never grow old? It's high up on this ledge, Frightening, Will you jump with me, will you hold my hand, Falling, falling, falling, Or will you turn away, From my outstretched hand, Into the safe warmth of the hotel room, away from the Marilyn dress, The moon and the stars, The dream, And the realities, That go on forever, and ever........ Sunrise 2015) -------------- He could, between the night and the day, understand his own truth, and lies, eyes, flicker, In his darkness, Filled with strangers, you cannot fool, another, who can see, their reflection, Looking back, On this warm day, in this land, let the sun simply, begin, and you my friend, kiss me, With a feather's touch wipe away tears, ease scars...

All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.

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