I am a hermit,

curled tight in my shell.

Face pressed into the warmth

of my creativity.

I cannot rise above

perpetual pain

to be your beacon

in the night.

The world is larger

than my mind can stretch.

You will move beyond

to the stars.


sixteen tomorrow

not quite a sweet sixteen
my ungainly man-child
{lanky limbs – big feet – chin fuzz}
submits to a hug
a kiss even
high honour bestowed
upon this
embarrassing mother

thank you

Riding Happy

When I’m not at work, I seem to be spending a lot of time watching my daughter riding. Sometimes I feel a bit tired of this, as horses are not really my thing, and standing around in fields is not good for my back, and I’m sure there could be something else I could be doing which I would enjoy more …

But then I look at her face 🙂

My daughter’s the one on the left, and on the right is her friend who she often rides with. The ponies are Carrots (on the left) and Dotty (on the right) – 2 of the Rheidol Riding Centre ponies. They were both doing a showjumping competition last weekend.


when you’re talking
I get distracted
by your eyes
and the infinities
inside them
the wonder
of your existence
made within me
years ago
and I have to
shake myself
and listen


taxi service
listening ear
giver of hugs
homework adviser
dispenser of medicine
holder of the purse-strings
provider of snack-filled cupboards
sanity checker for crazy ideas
defender of your right to be yourself
to be happy
to dream
to live

while I have
the right
to remain

for my son

my child
even as you grow
in age
in height
in shoe size!
know this
you are still
my baby boy
and despite
your need for privacy
your shrinking from
kiss hug hair-tidies
I think of you
I love you
you are worth
earth moon and stars
you are precious
perfectly you
as you are
and as you will be
believe me
believe in yourself

a new adventure

only 10 minutes
since your birth
accompanied by Norah Jones
come away with me
and the wonder
of a baby girl
(convinced you’d be a boy)
and now
tall and strong
entirely yourself
and proud to be so
taking changes in your stride
past your years
now laying down to sleep
before a new phase begins
with the morning
new uniform
new school
new friends to make
(old ones to keep)
a little nervous
but excited
for this new adventure
and your mother
your silly old mother
is just about to burst with pride

mothers day

mothers day
slipped by
without fanfare
just with
buttons stuck
on a cupcake
made of card
and felt
in blue of course
just for me
and your face
earnestly shining
for approval
and I know
there is no need
for fuss
my children’s
happy smiles
laughs and hugs
and silly giggly nonsense
are my reward
and pleasure