Category Archives: Poems


Have you ever lost a ticket, a receipt?

Something you really wanted to keep

Have you ever held it so tight

That you thought you’d never lose it

But then it gets so familiar 

That feel between your fingers 

you don’t realise it’s not there?

It’s somewhere, floating through particles 

It still exists, it knows where it went 

You’ll never see it again.

But you know that it was real 

you can still feel the wrinkled paper in your palm.

Stress eating – a poem

Costa Skinny Latte and a Full fat Muffin

A fruity flapjack fits the Bill and I’m not bluffing

a diet coke or two and a rich tea if it is there

by the time the birthday cakes arrived

I’m starting not to care
you have to pay on debit card £3 is the aim

so grab a kitkat chunky and a double decker to your shame

you know you are in trouble when you have crumbs upon your desk

wrappers piling higher than paperwork that you detest
you consider eating the alpen bar that’s been in your bag a week

when someone asks whos eaten their crisps you turn and do not speak

your diet coke consumption has gone right through the roof

you empty your own desk bin so that you can hide the proof
but when its gets to crunch time, a twix will do the job

at least when you have your mouth full, you do not swear or lob

It really takes the biscuit, when you’re pushed to the extreme 

To have to choose a rich tea as there are no custard creams
You’re on the hit list for the tea fund, as you haven’t paid

But you have consumed their doughnuts and a cake that Mary made

Some people may do yoga, peace and calm, may meditate

But stress eating is the thing that I just have to contemplate


I have held many hands.

Hands rough with work and wear

Hands soft and smooth

Hands that have cared.

Hands that are shaking

Hands that earthquake tremor

Hands that wipe away tears

Hands that cannot remember

Hands that feel no more

Hands grasping for answers

Hands wringing and wrought

Hands, tiny and delicate

Hands soft and new

Hands praying, forgiveness

Hands praying, for answers

Hands to rub and soothe

Hands waving and frantic

Hands slapping

Hands clapping

Hands into fists of anger

Hands thumping and hitting

Hands on laps,

Hands, palms held up

Hands cleansed with water

Hands thick with dirt, yellowing nails

Hands do not lie

Hands tell our stories

I have held many hands

Let me hold yours

You Were Mine for Nine Months

You were mine for 9 months.

No-one else knew you, but I did.

Now you will never only be mine again.

You are being stolen from me

in front of my eyes.

You have their blood, but I do not

You breathe their lives, into your lungs

You see things only your eyes will see.

You are a piece of me-

I feel my heart is being cut out.

What have I done to my soul

Shattered into pieces

Dispersed across the universe

The wind will wind and weave

Dance down the paths we tread

I let go of the ribbon

A balloon into the sky

You were mine for 9 months.

Swallow the Sadness

I have to tell people they are dying.

Do you know how that feels?

to see the life drain away from them

the moment the words fall from my lips

like poison


I have to tell people they will not get better

that there is no hope to hold

they let go, set adrift, no turning  back

I can not tell them where they are going


Promises can not be made

I can not say how it will feel

no pain? how can I say you won’t feel pain

the loss of life and leaving  those loved

the ache can not be cured


I say I am sorry – what am I sorry for?

an absurd word to say, but I say it none the less

I hold your hand with a heavy heart

the air thick with dying cells and sickness


and then I walk away, into the outside

fill my lungs with air fresh and free

walk on to the next person that I see

I swallow the sadness and it dissipates

I can forget; but you can not


Crayon craziness

Crayons crayons crayons!
You are so colourful and stubby
You are just the right size for me
With hands so small and chubby

The paper is so crisp and white
It’s just right to have a scribble
Black, brown and blue I love them all
I can’t help but have a nibble

The waxy stubs of colourful glee
I just can’t wait to start
Round and round and round I go
Completing my next work of art

My mum she swoons and cheers
When I put crayon to paper
Has she never seen a squiggle before?
She must love the things I make her

Colours fill my every thought
When can I next get hold of wax
I want to hold every crayon I own
And then colour to the max

That’s right I’m crayon crazy
I just need them in my life
When I wake up it’s time to go
And crayon will all my might

I wonder if the magnolia walls
Could do with a bit more colour
As I start my masterpiece
-hold on, what’s the matter with mother?

Some people don’t appreciate
These great works of art
One day I’ll be in the gallery
On Cbeebies for a start


All alone
You wait

A white room
No friendly face
You want to leave this place.

Hope glimmers faint
Unseen or heard
Promises made
Mistrusting of the word

Where is home
There with your wife
If you can’t be with her
What is the point of life?

Days drag on
Pull you to another morn
A way to escape
Your only means
To say no, to scorn

Your voice it goes
A silence deafens
No need to say again
You’ve found release
You’ve let it go
Float high into the heavens

You mean the world to me

I don’t write down the words you say
I can’t remember what you did yesterday
I don’t have a lock of hair stashed away
Yet you mean the world to me

I may not measure every inch you grow
Or have kept every one of your Babygros
My feelings for you I may not always show
Yet you mean the world to me

I may not do crafts or help you make cakes
Swimming or yoga – you I do not take
My smiles can sometimes be a bit fake
Yet you mean the world to me

I haven’t written about every day
Or when you walked, or toys you play
Sometimes I want you to just go away
Yet you mean the world to me

I don’t catalogue your life so far
I’ve forgotten much, it’s a bit of a blur
To tell the truth it’s been quite hard
Yet you mean the world to me

I can’t sew or make fancy dress
The house is almost certainly a mess
You aren’t coordinated when you’re dressed
Yet you mean the world to me

I think of you before I sleep
Sometimes for you, a tear I weep
My heart’s forever yours to keep
Because you mean the world to me

Mealtime Fun

When you don’t eat
And throw your food
Some people think
It’s rather rude

You point demand the biscuit tin
-But hold on we’re yet to start
Eat a few veggies, potatoes or peas
Don’t just sit there, and rip it apart

I wrack my brains
I huff and puff
Over the stove
To make you stuff

That glint in your eye
As you pick up your spoon
And aim it towards me
My heart fills with gloom

I’ve just got ready for work
And you’re eating toast
you rub your hands all over me
Peanut butter you boast

You’ll squish and pinch
You’ll sniff and lick
But actually eat it?
You won’t miss a trick

You’ll take a bite
And then I cheer
Only for you to go crazy
Spaghetti thrown at my ear

You say you want that banana
I am not so sure
When you ram it into your mouth
Then spit it onto the floor

Mealtimes are messy
They are supposed to be fun
You certainly like mealtimes
But the reason is wrong

Things I wish I’d never bought

A rocking chair

A baby bath
A ball with an annoying laugh

A baby bouncer

Long sleeved vests
Velcro bibs don’t stand the test

A bouncy chair you didn’t like
That ceiling projector went off in the night

You didn’t sit in the bumbo for long
The sleeping bags we bought were wrong

A Room thermometer that lied it was hot
Activity ball that would not stop

A travel dummy sanitiser
Water was a quicker answer

A changing bag with too many zips
A straw cup which won’t take any sips

A baby walker

A changing table-

trying to roll off as soon as were able

Heed my words this is my tale
Think before you make the sale

These are the things I didn’t use
What’s right for me may not be for you

Before you buy think what you choose…